Searching For Heaven
by Miko Akako
Summary: 100 Theme Challenge; COMPLETE; Features primarily Jim/Spock, Jim/Bones, Spock/Nyota, Nyota/Scotty, and Chekov/Sulu. Pairings/Warnings/Summary located at the head of each chapter.
1. Introduction

**Story: **Searching For Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None.  
><strong>Pairing(s):<strong> Past Nyota/Spock, Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 100  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _i. Introduction_

* * *

><p><strong>Introduction<strong>

It had been weeks since their break-up, or "termination of a romantic relationship" to use Vulcan terminology, and Nyota was thoroughly over Spock. She no longer cried herself to sleep, or sent lingering glances at him on the Bridge. After all, _she_ had broken up with _him. _The fact remained that she had still been very much in love when she told him they were over. It was his obvious attraction to another member of the crew that made up her mind. Despite that, she was still surprised when Spock approached her and introduced her to Jim Kirk, his bondmate.


	2. Love

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Male/Male relationship  
><strong>Pairing(s):<strong> Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 100  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _ii. Love_

* * *

><p><strong>Love<strong>_  
><em>

Jim didn't say those three words in that order. He never had. When someone said them to him, he would brush it off however he could. It didn't end well usually. So he started breaking off relationships before they got to that point. But with Spock it was different. He couldn't imagine life without the half-Vulcan man who had so infuriated him at the start. So when Spock said it, those three words, Jim did what he always did – he ran. It wasn't that he didn't love Spock, he just couldn't say those words. Good thing, he didn't have to.


	3. Light

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Brief(almost nonexistent) mentions of abuse.  
><strong>Pairing(s):<strong> Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 100  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _iii. Light  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Light<strong>

Jim never understood the concept of light. He could memorize and recite the definitions, but the idea really threw him for a loop. He was eight when he found a book on light and wavelengths in Sam's bag and spent the next week pestering Frank with questions. "So if everything we see is light reflecting, how do we know what it really looks like?" After Frank threw the vase at him he gave up, accepting that there were some things he would never understand. His bond with Spock was kind of like that, but he didn't need to ask questions.


	4. Dark

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>Pairing(s):<strong> Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 100  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _iv. Dark. Spock thinks on his life._

* * *

><p><strong>Dark<strong>

Spock was content with his life and his chosen path. He accepted that he would forever be on the fringe of any society, every society. He would not have close relationships with anyone, but that was made clear by his Vulcan classmates when he was just a child. He didn't think he was wanting for anything. He couldn't see that his world was without a light source until he saw a flash of fire in that cadet's soul that resonated with his own. Until his world was illuminated, he didn't even know that he had grown up in the dark.


	5. Seeking Solace

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>Pairing(s):<strong> Spock/(JimorBonesorUhura)  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 137  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _v. Seeking Solace. Missing scene after _Narada_'s destruction but before they get back to Earth._

* * *

><p><strong>Seeking Solace<strong>

Vulcan was gone. His mother, gone. Everything he had spent his life trying to get away from no longer existed to cast its shadow on his life. He wandered through the halls of the ship, not even caring where his feet were taking him. He was vaguely aware that he had bypassed the quarters where the Vulcan survivors were being kept. It wasn't until he found himself standing outside the temporary medical bay that he realized where he was. He lurched forward, still at a loss. Before he knew it, he saw the ground rising up to meet him. Warms arms caught him at the last minute, and a hard body was stopped his fall. They lay there, making no move to go anywhere. In those arms, he found the solace he hadn't known he was seeking.


	6. Break Away

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>Pairing(s):<strong> Spock(/)Kirk  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 142  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _vi. Break Away. In another life, another world, things could have been different__._

* * *

><p><strong>Break Away<strong>

He felt bound, tied with minuscule chains to the orange dirt of his world. To leave was unheard of, a crime from which there could never be restitution. He bowed his head and submitted to the yoke, tying the noose tighter until breathing was just too hard to bother with.

He had a weight on his leg preventing him from reaching for his dreams. The weight of someone he never met crushed his chest and constricted wings that were never allowed to develop. He dragged it with him from bar to bar, fighting until his strength was at an end. He fell to the ground and stopped moving, too beat down and broken to even try.

In another life, another world, they would break away from their prisons and find each other but in this one, they would only break into pieces.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Just wanted to take a break to thank all of my wonderful readers. I appreciate every review, alert and favorite I've received for this story thus far. And remember, if there's any you'd like to see expanded just let me know. I'm already writing an expansion of a few of them(and a few of the future ones have expansions already written). Anyway, that's all I had to say. Just - thank you.


	7. Dream

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None.  
><strong>Pairing(s):<strong> Jim/Spock, Bones  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 136  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _vii. Dream. Sometimes, he expected to wake up and find the last few weeks were a dream .  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Dream<strong>

Sometimes, he expected to wake up and find the last few weeks were a dream. Everywhere he went it was Jim-and-Spock, as if the two had become one person and their names had to be spoken together to even make sense anymore. And it was true. They were always together and neither needed to finish a sentence before the other knew what the message was. Jim had never been in a relationship like that before, and to say he was flourishing would be an understatement. Jim-and-Spock, Spock-and-Jim; everyone agreed it was the best thing to happen to the ship in ages. Everyone except Leonard McCoy. Because sometimes, he expected to wake up and find his boyfriend hadn't left him. Sometimes, he expected to wake up and find the last few weeks were just a terrible nightmare.


	8. Innocence

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None.  
><strong>Pairing(s):<strong> Leonard/Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 272  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _vii. Innocence. There was just something about a summer day in Georgia_

**A/N: **Thank you to King Sirahk for leaving the review that inspired this. Not quite a happy Bones, but at least he isn't sad?

* * *

><p><strong>Innocence<strong>

There was just something about a summer day in Georgia that made Leonard McCoy feel at home no matter how long he'd been gone. After seven years of college, he'd pulled his beat-down car into the driveway of his parents house and the humid air and pounding sun accosted him and soothed him all at once. Leaving it behind for the cold, sterile atmosphere of Starfleet was the hardest decision of his life.

For twenty-two years he served, ten as CMO of the flagship, five as her Captain, and another seven as an Admiral stationed at the Academy in San Francisco. When he finally retired, there was only one place he wanted to go. It was exactly the same, and yet vastly different. The taste of sweet tea and barbeque was bitter sweet in his mouth. The long sunsets painted the porch of the house he grew up in orange and pink and red and all the colors in-between.

But what made the difference this time was that for once he wasn't alone in it. Jocelyn never counted; even when he thought their marriage was good she never wanted to be in the same room as him. With Jim it was different. With Jim, it was like he was learning everything about his beloved home through the eyes of a child. The colors were brighter, the smells sweeter, the tastes more vibrant. Sitting on that porch with Jim's head resting on his lap and their hands entwined between them, it was as if all their past struggles had been erased and they could be the innocent children they had never been.


	9. Drive

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None.  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** Jim, Bones, Spock, Winona Kirk  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 294  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _ix. Drive. He always drove too fast when he was mad.  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Drive<strong>

He slammed his hands against the steering wheel, cursing at himself, his parents, the rain and whatever god was looking down at him. His wipers were going full speed, trying to keep up with the pounding rain as it obscured the windshield. He was feeling reckless, hurtling down the lonely Iowa highway at twice the speed limit in his father's antique car that he'd almost driven off a cliff when he was twelve. He always drove too fast when he was mad; he drove even faster when he was mad at himself.

"Jim, pick up the goddamn phone," The familiar voice was grounding, but he was beyond that now. "At least get your ass back here. You can't run forever…" The message clicked off as the time ran out and Jim pressed his foot harder on the gas petal.

"Jim, sweetie, Leonard just called me…" He hung up on that one himself, never swerving as his hand flipped the switch to shut his mother up. He didn't want to hear from her now. Or ever, for that matter. It was because of her that he was in this position. Her and her inability to express emotions.

"Captain," Jim's lips twitched, pushing the car faster than it should have been able to go. "Doctor McCoy would like me to urge you to return as soon as you get this message." The Vulcan's voice faded away and Jim heard Bones' voice in the background. "He also feels it relevant for me to inform you that Cadet Uhura and I did not bond." Jim's foot slipped, jarring his whole body and he found himself spinning, spinning, spinning out of control. The last thing he heard before his world went black was Spock's voice. "Please come back, Jim."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **This one is going to be expanded for sure. And to spoil it, it won't involve the death of any major character.


	10. Breathe Again

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None.  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** Jim, Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 128  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _x. Breathe Again. He didn't have an alien fetish._

* * *

><p><strong>Breathe Again<strong>

It was stupid. Jim Kirk knew it was. He was the youngest Captain in Starfleet history. He'd spent his childhood travelling the stars in whatever ship his mother was stationed in spending years at a time immersed in alien cultures. He'd met almost every known species, including a few Klingons who he would be happy never to see again. Hell, he'd lived for six months on Vulcan while his mom did her research. He didn't have an alien fetish, and most certainly not a Vulcan one (unlike two members of his crew). In fact, he generally didn't like Vulcans. Too stuffy. Too in love with themselves and their rules. So why, every time Spock stood close to him, did he have to remind himself to start breathing again?


	11. Memory

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None.  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** Jim, Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 532  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _x. Memory. It gets easier._

**A/N:** Happy Easter(for those of you who celebrate it). I'm posting this early since I'm not sure if I'll be able to get on later. I hope you all have a wonderful day!

* * *

><p><strong>Memory<strong>

In the wake of such devastation, it was all too easy for him to realize exactly how little control he had on his life. He had always been fiercely independent, and yet so desperate to fit in with his peers. The only thing he could always count on was his mother's unwavering support and love. When he had gone home with a split lip, green blood still flowing, she had grabbed a chip of ice wrapped in a cloth to sooth the pain and alleviate the swelling. When he was older, she had expressed her support no matter what decision he made – Vulcan Science Academy or Starfleet Academy. Even so many light years away, she always answered when he called her, though several times he was well aware that it was the middle of the night on Vulcan.

It was impossible for him to comprehend that she was gone. He had seen her fall, and yet his mind refused to process that she ceased to exist. He held on to the irrational hope that he could just sit down and pick up his Communicator and see her on the other end. Of course he wouldn't share his irrationality with anyone else. Not that there was anyone he was close enough to confide in. His father had ceased communications as soon as he heard Spock would be leaving Vulcan. None of the crew members were comfortable with him, save Nyota Uhura. While he knew Nyota would be willing to listen to him, and even though she would probably give him sound advice, he was loathe to let her in that close. She had made no secret about her feelings towards him, and he feared if he showed his grief to her, she would consider it reciprocation on his part.

"It gets better," He looked up in surprise. He hadn't heard Cadet – Acting Captain – Kirk enter his quarters. He did his best to compose himself, sitting straighter and pursing his lips. He raised his eye brows, which seemed to signal Kirk that he could continue talking. "Well, sort of."

"I do not understand to what you are referring," He was glad Kirk stayed across the room from him. He knew his emotional shields were compromised, and close contact with such an emotional person could destroy them. No other human seemed to feel emotions like James Kirk.

"Your mother," Jim said. His arrogance and confrontational attitude seemed to have been replaced. "I...My mother wasn't around much, and her husband was…well, he wasn't much of a role model. The only one I had was Sam – my brother. When I was thirteen – he was sixteen – we were shipped off to T…we were shipped off planet. He died. A horrible, painful death." Jim closed his eyes, a look of pain crossing his features for a moment. He took a breath and opened his eyes, looking back at Spock. "It never gets easier, but in time the pain starts to fade to the back of your mind. But you'll never forget. The memory will stay forever. You just…you just have to think of the good ones instead of the bad. Even though it doesn't seem like it, it gets better."


	12. Insanity

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None.  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** Nyota, Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 100  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _xii. Insanity. If insanity was defined as doing the same thing and expecting a different result ._

* * *

><p><strong>Insanity<strong>

Her friends told her over and over that it would never work. Not only was he eight years older than her, but he was also her teacher. Perhaps if he had been human there could have been some glimmer of hope, but everyone knows Vulcans didn't feel emotions, especially not one as crippling as love. And yet she refused to give up. She continued to wait for him after class and 'casually' run into him around campus every few hours. If insanity was defined as doing the same thing and expecting a different result, Nyota Uhura was a prime candidate.


	13. Misfortune

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None.  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** Spock/Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 326  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _xiii. Misfortune. Everything about James T. Kirk defied the odds...  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>How can you expect a man to be brave when he meets with nothing in life but misfortune?<em>  
><strong>– Gregorio M. Sierra<strong>

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Misfortune<strong>  
><strong>

Sometimes, Spock would look at his bondmate and marvel at how he was still breathing. Everything about James T. Kirk defied the odds, but what struck him the most was that no matter what he faced, he could still have such blind faith in every soul he encountered. When they'd met, Jim the troublesome Cadet who cheated on the Kobayashi Maru, Spock the professor who was determined to bring him to justice, everything had seemed black and white. As they grew closer, first as coworkers, then as friends, and finally as lovers, pieces began to fall into place about the life of Jim.

It was a miracle that Jim was even alive. He was born on an escape pod in the middle of space two months premature while the ship he had just evacuated was under attack by Romulans from the future. Despite all that was going against him, they made it back to Earth. On Earth, his mother eventually remarried and abusive alcoholic who took to beating Jim and his brother not only physically, bruises and broken bones heal, but verbally as well. The scars were still there from that – no healthy person felt the need to go whoring every night of the week at a different bar for half a dozen years.

But he somehow overcame all that misfortune and became the man he was today. He was the youngest Captain in Starfleet history. His name was better known than any other, even in households that had no connection to Starfleet. He had a fierce moral code that he would do anything to defend. He never had a harsh word for anyone, and had approached Spock after they'd returned to Earth from what came to be called the Narada incident, pleading for forgiveness for what he had said on the Bridge. Sometimes, Spock would look at his bondmate and wonder how someone who had been so hurt by humanity could still love so selflessly.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So it's finals week(until next Wednesday). I'm going to try my best to keep on track with this, but if I miss a day, that's why. And if that happens, I'll post two the next day. Thank you to everyone who has alerted/favorited this. I feel bad that I don't get to thank you for it like I (try to) do with the reviewers. Just want to let you all know I appreciate all the support.


	14. Smile

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Suggestive tones  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** Bones/Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 464  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _xiv. Smile. He had years of happiness to look forward to._

* * *

><p><strong>Smile<strong>

It was the last day of shore leave, and Jim fell into a blissfully domestic pattern. He always woke early, earlier than Bones anyway. He eased himself out of bed and walked silently out of the bedroom. Before he left, he would linger in the door way, a smile playing across his lips as he observed his husband lying on the bed, limbs cast haphazardously in all directions. He resisted the urge to go back and slid next to the sleeping man, resisted the urge to wake him up with soft but insistent kisses trailing down his abdomen to where the blanket was bunched.

He finally tore his eyes away and closed the door gently, even though he knew Bones could sleep through anything. He walked through the dark hall, not bothering to turn on any lights until he reached the kitchen. Once there, he pulled out everything he would need to make French toast, Bones' favorite breakfast and the one that Jim had tried and failed to make every morning. He was determined to get it right today.

He whistled, unable to hold a tune but refusing to let that stop him, as he cracked eggs, managing to avoid getting any shells in the mix. He managed to spill the milk all over the counter, and while he was mixing he splashed quite a bit more but he cleaned all the mess up with the quick swipe of a dish rag. When he finished, he dove right in to the bread and soaked it before putting it on the pan. He moved on to the next, and the next, forgetting about the first.

"You're burning it, hun." Jim whipped around, spraying egg-and-milk from the half soaked bread in his hand. Bones was standing in the doorway, one eye blearily wiping sleep from his eye before running it up to his hair which was sticking up at all angles. Jim stood there for a second, dripping bread in his hand and a smile lighting his face. It took a moment for his brain to register what Bones had said.

"Oh!" He turned around just as quickly, flipping the first piece that he'd put down to reveal that it was in fact black. His expression turned from joy to disappointment in a heartbeat. "Damn," He said tossing it in the trash and glancing back apologetically at Bones. "I'm sorry. I thought I'd get it right for sure this time."

"Don't worry 'bout it, darlin'," Bones walked over, standing beside Jim and placing his hand over the one that held the spatula. "It takes years of practice." Jim glanced over at Bones, subtly pressing their bodies closer. As the implication of Bones' words settled in, Jim smiled. He had years of practice to look forward to.


	15. Silence

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** Spock/Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 148  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _xv. Silence. He only made it an hour into the third day before breaking._

* * *

><p><strong>Silence<strong>

Everyone knew their Captain well enough to know he didn't handle silence very well. When the Bridge went quiet, one of those natural moments where all the various conversations peter out, he had to say something, anything, to get everyone talking again. So when it became known that Jim was giving Spock the silent treatment, everyone came together to place bets on how long Jim could hold out.

The first day was easy. Jim was his normal self, laughing with Sulu and Chekov without even glancing over at his First Officer. The second was harder. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes, and whenever someone said something funny, he would half turn before realizing he wasn't speaking to his bondmate. He only made it an hour into the third day before breaking and taking Spock aside to 'talk'. Of course, Spock won the bet down to the minute.


	16. Illusion

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Mentions of prostitution  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** Spock/Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 407  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _xvi. Illusion. He'd never been on a date where he wasn't paid for his time._

_**Background:** _This is going to be a scene from a story I'm working on. Jim and Gaila are roommates. Jim was working toward degrees at the local college, but when money ran right, Gaila got Jim a job working as an escort_. _One thing led to another and Jim dropped out one semester from graduation. A few months later, Spock moves in across the hall and Jim falls in love. However, Jim's friend Nyota Uhura gets there first, and Spock enters a relationship with her. This piece takes place in the middle of the story on Jim and Spock's first date. If you're interested in reading the full story, please don't be put off by Uhura's behavior. I don't intend to portray her as this bitchy.

* * *

><p><strong>Illusion<strong>

Everything was perfect. Jim was pretty damn sure nothing could make the day better. After months of watching Spock from afar, from trying to convince himself that it was better they were just friends, they were finally on their first date. It still brought a smile to Jim's lips to imagine Bones' reaction to his announcement. In all the years that they'd known each other, Jim had never been on a date where he wasn't paid at the end of the night – or up front if it was a new client. Gaila's reaction had been even more comical. He thought she was going to explode on the spot.

"What is amusing you?" Spock asked, breaking in to Jim's thoughts. He glanced up at the man across the table and smiled broadly. The half Vulcan's eyebrow was raised in a way that drove Jim crazy, even though he'd never been in a position to have a chance to act on the feelings it brought out.

"Just thinking about Bones' reaction when I told him about our date," The word slipped from his lips easily, and he didn't care that he was smiling like an idiot. Before Spock could reply, the smile slid from Jim's face as he caught sight of an all too familiar person walking through the doors. Gaila's eyes caught his and she mouthed an apology and tried to steer her companion in the other direction but it was too late. Nyota Uhura's expression went through a range from pain, to shock and finally settled on anger. She walked over with a purpose, Gaila trailing behind.

"Hello Spock," She said, smiling at him. "I want to talk to you, Kirk." Her tone hardened considerably when she addressed Jim. He tossed a half hearted smile to Spock and excused himself, wincing as she grabbed his arm and hauled him a few feet away.

"You've created this pretty little illusion of a normal life, but the fact of the matter is- when you go to work, you sell your body. You're nothing more than a common whore, and Spock deserves better," She whispered it, but she made no attempt to keep her words from drifting to the tables around them, including where Spock was sitting. The words stung like a slap in the face not because of her tone, but because they were true. How long did he think he could keep up this illusion before it shattered?


	17. Blood

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Bleeding  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** Spock/Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 260  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _xvii. Blood. Vulcan blood is green._

* * *

><p><strong>Blood<strong>

Spock glanced at his hand. Or, more specifically, he was looking at the green substance coating his fingers. Against all odds, he hadn't bled since he was a child with a split lip. He almost forgot his blood was a different color than Jim's, who bled so frequently. He was still looking at his hands when someone grabbed his hand, using a towel to stop the flow of blood.

"What happened?" Jim's voice had a slight edge of fear in it that Spock had never heard before. He couldn't remember Jim expressing fear even when they'd been held hostage on a supposedly friendly planet. That had been five days of no food or water and when they'd finally been rescued, Jim was severely dehydrated and it was only through McCoy's intervention that Jim survived.

"The vial slipped. I miscalculated and it shattered when I attempted to catch it," Spock said. Jim removed the towel and frowned at the cut. It was no longer bleeding. "Vulcan blood is green." Spock suddenly realized that this difference may be the one to push Jim away for good. He had been holding his breath, figuratively, since the start of their relationship. He wouldn't admit it, of course. Vulcan's didn't experience fear, because fear was an emotion.

"I know," Jim said, looking up and meeting Spock's eye. "I never even thought about it." He made Spock's hand open and close, the prolonged contact between their hands making his skin crawl. Spock's worry seeped through his shield and Jim smiled reassuringly. "Green is much cooler than red."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **My first final is tonight, so I'm posting this early. Since people really seemed to like the previous chapter, I'll be posting the first chapter of that story this weekend. Just got to find a beta for it, since it'll be my first attempt at a multi-chapter fic in this genre. Anyone want to volunteer? =D


	18. Rainbow

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** Spock/Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 264  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _xviii. Rainbow. What's the catch?_

* * *

><p><strong>Rainbow<strong>

"What's the catch?" Jim broke the silence but didn't look at the Vulcan standing beside him. He didn't need to in order to know Spock had raised an eyebrow in question. "This is the third uninhabited planet we've been to. Where's the carnivorous plants or seismic activity?"

The first one had been a small planet, only eight hour days, but the initial reports indicated rich mineral supplies and no sentient life. On the third day, just before they were set to beam down the miners they were transporting after surveying the area, the plants seemed to come to life. They'd managed to get out alive, but one of the security crew lost a leg even with Doctor McCoy's intervention.

They didn't even make it half an hour on the second one before evacuating. Three crew members died on the planet and another one died in surgery when the mountain they'd beamed down on had been violently shaken, sending them all down a landslide.

So they had beamed down to this planet hesitantly, taking every precaution before sending people. Once down, everything had gone according to the textbooks. They surveyed during the day, beamed up at night, and started again the next day. They had been there for two weeks and the entire northern hemisphere was mapped and charted. But the best part was at sunset and sunrise. The crew had taken turns beaming down to witness the sight.

Twice a day, when the sun touched the horizon, a million rainbows arched overhead, illuminating the world in color. Because sometimes, things had to go right.


	19. Gray

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** Spock, Jim  
><strong>Word count: <strong>412  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _xix. Gray. Jim Kirk is a gray area.  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Gray<strong>

"Your actions are illogical," Spock said. Everyone on the Bridge went silent. It was the fifth day of their first five year mission and the _Narada_ incident was fresh on their mind. It had only been six month ago that the First Officer had the Captain pressed against the navigation station, slowly strangling him.

"You would say that." Jim looked up lazily from the Captain's chair to look at Spock. He narrowed his eyes slightly as if evaluating Spock's intentions. A moment later, he stood. "Sulu, you have the conn. Come with me, Mr. Spock." He left the Bridge casually as if defying the general mood of the room.

"Yes, Captain?" Spock kept up easily with Jim's shorter stride. Jim slipped in to a conference room and Spock followed, standing at attention even when Jim fell into a chair, propping his legs on the table.

"You don't like me," Jim said. He held up a hand to stop Spock from interrupting him. "I get it. You've got a stick up your ass, and you're going to argue with every decision I make –"

"This decision is illogic –"

"Illogical, I know," Jim sighed. "Only it isn't. It's just against the norm. But you're going to have to get used to that because I have no intention of sticking to outdated protocol that never should have been started in the first place."

"Starfleet will obj-"

"But by the time they know, it will be too late for them to do anything, _right?_" The question was loaded, and Spock narrowed his eyes.

"Lying to Starfleet is unacceptable," He insisted. "Captains are required to observe and enforce the rules. To bend them for your own benefit would compromise your command. As your First Officer, it is my job to urge you to reconsider your decision, or I will be forced to report you to Admiral Pike."

"There's no rule that says the Captain can't go on away missions," Jim said. "Just because it isn't done doesn't make it 'unacceptable.' It's a moral gray area." Jim stood up, walking toward Spock. "And you won't report it to Pike, because then we'll have to turn around and go through pointless paperwork which will delay our start." He clapped Spock on the shoulder, leaving the Vulcan alone in the conference room. Moral gray areas were not something Spock was comfortable with, but something told him this wouldn't be the only one if he stayed on under Captain Kirk.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I redid this chapter, since I really wasn't happy with the other version. I hope you like this one better.

I'm working on the 'Illusion' story, but it's going slower than I anticipated. I will have it up within the next few days.

Also, I rescued a horse about a week ago and made a blog for him. It's listed as my homepage if anyone is interested. Just thought I'd let you guys know about it.


	20. Fortitude

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** George Kirk Sr.

**Word count: **191  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> x_x. Fortitude. She wasn't the brave one._

**Fortitude**

"Today we honor Captain Robau and Captain Kirk along with the rest of the crew of the U.S.S. Kelvin…" Winona could feel all eyes on her. She knew she stuck out like a sore thumb, the only person not wearing a Starfleet uniform. She was a teacher, and the only reason she was on the _Kelvin_ at all was because she volunteered to help set up the new Human colony so her husband could spend time with their new baby before he had to go on another mission.

She wanted nothing more than to vanish. She wasn't the brave one – she wasn't the one who wanted to be responsible for anyone else's life but her own. The thought of the two children waiting for her back in Riverside, Iowa was enough to send her running for the stars. George was the one who pushed her for a family. With him, she almost believed she could be a good mother. Without him there to hold her up, she just didn't have the strength. She could only hope her boys would be more like George; that they could survive even through her inadequacies.


	21. Vacation

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** Sam, Jim, Frank  
><strong>Word count: <strong>240  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _xxi. Vacation. Sam collected postcards._

* * *

><p><strong>Vacation<strong>

Sam wasn't stupid. He knew that as long as he lived with Frank, he would never get to go to any of the places on the postcards he collected. He started the collection when he was seven. Frank left to go get more liquor so Sam made a run for it, dragging four year old Jim with him. It only took them an hour to get to the antique corner store. The owner was a kind old woman who was always willing to take them in when she was in town. She doted on Jim and let Sam look around her collection of treasures. His favorite were the post cards she collected from her travels around the world.

Sam was ten when he started planning out his vacations, even though he knew the likelihood of going on any of them were slim when his mother was working just to keep them fed and clothed. He didn't care. First he wanted to see New York. Once, it had been one of the largest and busiest cities in the world. It was much smaller now, especially when compared to Los Angeles, Johannesburg, and Dalian – all three of which were on Sam's list. He also wanted to go to Florida and see the museum dedicated to the 20th and 21st century space exploration. After those, he would start planning his vacations off planet. Unlike his brother, Sam was always looking to the stars.


	22. Mother Nature

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Language  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count: <strong>473  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> x_xii. Mother Nature. It's not really the tree, Spock._

* * *

><p><strong>Mother Nature<strong>

"_What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jim scrambled up the tree, clinging to the branches and hoping he could get out of Frank's reach before said stepfather got across the lawn. The blonde boy wasn't sure what he'd done to attract Frank's attention, but he did recognize the signs of when he needed to get away. His eight year old legs were no match for Franks, and since his stepfather had reduced his door to splinters the week before, locking himself in his room was out of the question. So he climbed the tree, ignoring the splinters of wood lodging themselves in his palm, and the scratches on his face and arms and legs. By the time Frank stumbled across the yard, Jim was too high for him to reach. He slept in the tree all night, until Frank left the next day to pick up Winona from the shuttle yard. _

Spock watched his bondmate with a mixture of fascination and confusion. They had a two week leave while the _Enterprise_ went through routine upgrades and Jim had decided he would show Spock where he grew up. The house was obviously abandoned, tucked back from the roads so far that most people wouldn't know it even existed. There were weeds growing around the foundation, and the paint was chipped and faded. To Spock's surprise, Jim didn't go to the house, but to a single tree a few yards away. The normally energetic Captain was oddly quiet, placing a hand on the trunk. Spock felt a ripple of affection slide through their bond, and he heard Jim mutter something out loud.

"I'm sorry, Jim," Jim recognized the tone in Spock's voice. "I do not understand why you are thanking an inanimate object."

"It's not really the tree, Spock," Jim said, hooking an arm over a branch and hoisting himself up. He sat on one of the lower branches and looked down at the Vulcan. "It's…this tree protected me. Once I sat up here all night waiting for Frank to leave so I could go inside. Have you heard of Mother Nature?"

"Indeed," Spock said, approaching the tree. "The belief held by ancient Earth humans that their lives were controlled by all powerful beings…"

"Is it stupid if I say that sometimes I believe they may have been on to something?" Jim looked like a child, swinging his legs and looking out across the overgrown pastures.

"It is not," Spock assured him softly. Before they left, Spock glanced back at the tree and said his own thanks for protecting his t'hy'la long enough for the little boy to grow into the man he became. He could almost imagine he felt a faint psy stirring, but if there was, it lasted no longer than a few milliseconds.


	23. Cat

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Language  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** Jim, Spock (implied Jim/Bones)  
><strong>Word count: <strong>296  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> x_xiii. Cat. It's like the cat._

* * *

><p><strong>Cat<strong>

"Bones and I are going on a date," Jim blurted the words so quickly it took a moment for Spock to digest what the Captain said. It was only 12.4 minutes into their weekly chess match, and Spock was amazed Jim had held out for so long. As soon as he entered, it was obvious something was bothering the normally boisterous man, but Spock decided to ignore the fidgeting and wait for Jim to broach the subject on his own. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't that. He was aware that Jim and his Chief Medical Officer had been engaging in coitus since their academy days, but he did not realize that did not constitute a relationship.

"Indeed?" He said, moving a bishop. "Check."

"Yeah," Jim said. In normal fashion, once he started, Jim had a hard time stopping. "I mean, it'll be our first official date. I know we're good in bed, but what if he doesn't like the company? I'm not the greatest with relationships. I've never been able to stay with one person for long. And Bones is my best friend. I don't think I can imagine life without him. So what happens when I screw it up? Or what if everything goes fine, and he doesn't get sick of me? It's like the damn cat." Spock raised an eyebrow. "Schrödinger's Cat. You know – that's alive and dead at the same time until you open the box?"

"I am aware of the experiment to which you are referring," Spock said. "But since the cat is either alive or dead, it makes no difference to the outcome if you open the box. It will not change the outcome."

"So you think I should open the box?" Jim moved his King to safety.

"It is illogical not to do so." Spock said, moving another piece. "Checkmate."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So who thought this would be something relating Spock to a cat? I'll admit I did. But then I told myself that's an overused metaphor, and decided to subvert all expectations by making the obvious Jim/Spock chapter into a Jim/Bones chapter. :P Plus I'm really liking Bones right now.


	24. No Time

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** post-Nyota/Spock  
><strong>Word count: <strong>248  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> x_xiv. No Time. Just no time._

* * *

><p><strong>No Time<strong>

It was better this way, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. Just looking at him caused her chest to clench and her breath to hitch. He wasn't the first person she had been in a relationship with, but he was the first she thought she would spend her life with. It had started as a crush, an unattainable dream guy she laughed about with Gaila when they had their girl's nights. When she was dared to ask him out, she never believed he would say yes. That he agreed to a second and third date made her think she was living in a fairytale, and she expected to wake up any minute.

There was no big fight that led to their break-up. They were the perfect couple until they weren't. They truly believed they were in love, and in many regards they were. He was in love with the acceptance she offered and she was in love with someone who needed her so deeply. As she neared graduation, and he gained confidence, the veil slowly started to fall away. They didn't need each other so much and so they started to drift apart. At the start of their relationship, they were together all the time, even if they just studied in the same room. Eventually, there just wasn't enough time to spend with each other. That was what he said when he ended their relationship, and she agreed, even though it hurt. "There is just no time."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So...I got behind in responding to reviews. I'll start again now, but thank you so much to all that I didn't respond to. I turned in my last paper yesterday so I'm officially done. For a week before summer classes start.


	25. Trouble Lurking

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** Spock/Jim  
><strong>Word count: <strong>350  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> x_xv. Trouble Lurking. There was something lurking behind those eyes._

* * *

><p><strong>Trouble Lurking<strong>

Spock took to avoiding the Captain. He found that he could no longer control his emotions around the exuberant human. In all the years he had been living and working with Starfleet, he had not met anyone who could provoke even a fraction of the emotional response Captain Kirk could with just a look. Spock could lose himself in those eyes. There was something lurking behind them, speaking a million words with a single glance.

Thankfully, Spock was on shift when Captain Kirk wasn't, and their shifts overlapped only long enough to Spock to relinquish control and step into the turbo lift. Most days the Captain was immediately overwhelmed with the reports of what had happened with his shift while he was off duty and he didn't notice that his First Officer walked a little quicker than he should have and flinched away if Jim even seemed likely to touch him.

Jim had to admit he was equal parts glad and hurt that Spock vacated any room they found themselves in together. He had mastered the art of closing off his heart at an early age. People eventually disappointed, and the brief happiness wasn't worth the years of heartache that would follow. Yet everything in Jim strained toward the Vulcan who had every reason to hurt him, despite the trouble he knew it would cause both personally and professionally. He wasn't even aware that it was to Spock's quarters he walked after shift one day. Before he could think better of it he pressed the buzzer.

"Captain?" Spock kept enough control not to flinch as Jim strode past him to pace inside the room. He turned around, hand falling to his side from closing the door. He lifted his eyes and forced them to meet Jim's, taken aback by the depth of emotions he saw playing across the Captain's features. Before he could speak, Jim's lips were on his, warm and demanding and so much better than he ever expected. While they were fused together, skin on skin, breath mingling, they could forget the trouble lurking in the future.


	26. Tears

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Resurrection of a TOS character.  
><strong>PairingCharacter:** Jim, McCoy, Uhura, Spock, Yeoman Rand  
><strong>Word count: <strong>240  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> x_xvi. Tears. Jim knew he had a problem on his hands._

* * *

><p><strong>Tears<strong>

Walking on to the bridge, Jim knew he had a problem on his hands. A large, messy crisis. He wanted to just turn around and run in the other direction and let someone else deal with it but he was the Captain. Not to mention no one else was capable, with Uhura laughing at the communications station and Spock trying and failing not to laugh beside her. Everyone else was in various fits of hysteria, gasping for breath. McCoy arrived a moment after Jim, swearing and pulling out several hypo's from his kit. He handed a few to Jim.

"You've gotten enough of these," He said, moving toward Sulu. "You should know how to do this." Jim hesitated, torn between heading to Yeoman Rand who was doubled over with laughter, unable to breathe, and going to Spock. He gave Rand the hypo quickly, leaving her as soon as she started breathing normally. Spock was turning red, tears streaming down his face from holding in the laughter.

"Captain," Spock's voice was forced and sounded more like a plea for help than a title. Jim took pity on him, pressing the hypo to the Vulcan's neck and administering the drug that would calm him down. Spock closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them they had returned to normal, a slight watering the only sign of the hysteria that had been in them only a moment before.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So I swear I had this ready for yesterday and ff wouldn't let me upload it. Today's will be up later.


	27. Foreign

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 124  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xxvii. Foreign. He had five years to find a Rosetta Stone._

* * *

><p><strong>Foreign<br>**

Jim just couldn't understand Spock. One moment the Vulcan was questioning every other word out of Jim's mouth and the next he was nerve pinching an Andorian who looked at Jim wrong. Not that Jim wasn't grateful because without Spock he probably would have been in serious trouble. He still wished Spock wasn't so damn confusing. It didn't help that Vulcan's were so reclusive. Jim had met most species travelling with his mother, but Vulcan's hadn't been among them. He just wished he knew if Spock's behavior was typical. It was like Spock was speaking a foreign language that Jim could almost understand, but was different enough that it made absolutely no sense. At least he had five years to find a Rosetta Stone.


	28. Sorrow

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Burning alive  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 270  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xxviii. Sorrow. Sometimes Jim remembers..._

* * *

><p><strong>Sorrow<strong>

Sometimes Jim can still smell smoke when he closes his eyes and just as he's drifting off to sleep, he hears screaming that tears at his heartstrings. Suddenly, he's twelve years old again and running for his life with legs that are too short and a body that's too malnourished to sustain speed for long enough to escape. Not that there's any one thing to escape from. But he still tries, dragging smaller children after him, one clinging to his back and two small hands in his.

"Just…a little…further," Jim says, panting and trying to shut out the sounds of children pleading with him to stop, rest just a moment. They make it up the hill, looking down on what they hope will be their salvation. All they see is burning buildings and people screaming and soldiers shooting anyone who runs out of the buildings. There is no safety to be found in any direction.

"No!" Jim falls to the ground, just aware enough to put the girl on his back on her feet. He cries, the sound of children crying and the smell of flesh burning forever engrained in his unconscious brain. He's still crying when he wakes up, and the arms that are holding him are restraints and the words of assurance are a proclamation of death.

"Hush, Jim," As Jim wakes further he can make out Spock's voice. "You're okay. I will keep you safe." Jim clings to his t'hy'la, fighting back the overwhelming pain and sorrow that accompany the dream. With Spock there, the dream comes less and less, and it's easier and easier to resurface.


	29. Happiness

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 196  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xxix. Happiness. Jim was never unhappy._

* * *

><p><strong>Happiness<strong>

Jim never remembered being unhappy. His childhood wasn't typical – he didn't have the mother and father and puppy that were attributed to childhood happiness. He had an alcoholic step-father, an absent mother, and a brother who was constantly running away and leaving Jim to clean up the mess. And yet he was never distinctly unhappy.

Until he suddenly found himself smiling for no reason at all. He whistled, even though he couldn't hold a tune and his friends constantly made fun of him. He even found himself dancing in his quarters when no one else was there, even though he usually ended up tripping over the clothes and PADDs he left lying on the floor. And he knew exactly what – or rather who – was responsible for this sudden revelation.

Sometimes he had to pinch himself when he woke up and saw the man lying asleep beside him. When Spock was missing, he woke in a panic, throwing off the covers and getting dressed before he realized the Vulcan was just on shift. But nevertheless, when he saw his t'hy'la's face, he felt that feeling that he'd never known he was missing.


	30. Under the Rain

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 236  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xxx. Under the Rain. It was the perfect end to the worst day._

* * *

><p><strong>Under the Rain<strong>

"Damn it," Jim cursed, throwing his hands up at the sky which had just opened, drenching him and Spock in seconds. Everyone else in the park was packing and running for cover, but Jim made no move to go and Spock didn't either.

It was the worst end to an awful day. They had one day of shore leave while the Enterprise picked up a few new crew members and Jim had finally convinced Spock to leave the ship and explore the city. He'd been horrified to learn that in all the years Spock was in the Academy, he hadn't left the grounds even once.

Unfortunately, Jim hadn't taken into account that his and Spock's pictures had been shown on every news station for weeks after they saved the Earth. Everywhere they went, they were accosted by people asking for autographs and pictures. They hadn't even managed a few minutes alone all day.

"Jim," Spock took a step forward, looking and sounding completely unruffled despite the pounding rain. Jim turned to look at Spock, shaking his head and wiping the rain from his eyes only to have them obscured again.

"What?" Jim asked.

"It appears we are finally alone." Jim glanced around, a smile dawning as he realized everyone had left to find shelter. He took a step closer to Spock, a smirk appearing on his lips.

"It appears we are."


	31. Flowers

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 529  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xxxi. Flowers. Three times Jim sent Spock flowers, and the one time Spock knows they're from Jim._

* * *

><p><strong>Flowers<strong>

* * *

><p><span>Poppy - Consolation<span>

The first time Spock returned to his room to find a flower was right after the Enterprise set off on her maiden flight under Captain Kirk. Sitting on his desk was a bouquet of red poppies. He paused for a moment before walking over to them to examine them closer. There was a note, but he couldn't match the handwriting to anyone he knew.

_I'm sorry for your loss._

* * *

><p><span>Chrysanthemum – Good Friend<span>

Spock eventually forgot about the flowers. At his elder counterparts urging, he had attempted to forge a friendship with the Captain. Sometimes it seemed like their relationship would one day mirror the deep connection of their counterparts. Other days, the Captain seemed to ignore Spock's words, effectively freezing the First Officer out of any decisions. Especially when it involved the Captain's safety.

Spock returned to his room, fuming over Captain Kirk's stupid stunt – beaming down to a hostile planet to rescue the single member of the crew that hadn't made it out – when he found a fresh bunch of flowers. This time, they were Chrysanthemums of various colors. Again, there was a note sitting beside them.

_You're a good friend_.

* * *

><p><span>White Camellia – Adoration, perfection and loveliness<span>

Spock wasn't used to feeling useless. Among a species that was physically and emotionally weaker, he was the one everyone looked to for help. And yet for a moment, just a moment but that was enough, he had hesitated. If Jim, slung across Spock's back and in more pain than a human should be able to feel and remain conscious, hadn't given the order to fall back, more than just Jim would have been injured in the next rock fall.

He was taken by surprise when he returned to his room to find a bouquet of white camellia's lying on his desk in the same spot the previous two bunches had been. His mood brightened considerably as he lifted them to find the note tucked underneath.

_You're perfect just the way you are._

* * *

><p><span>Forget-Me-Nots, Amaranths, Iris, Jonquil, Tulips – Love<span>

Spock thought he knew who was sending him the flowers, but every subtle attempt to get Nyota to confess failed. They had ended their relationship before resigning onto the Enterprise, and he didn't want her to think he was changing his mind. He may have been able to form a life with her, but his first duty would always be to Starfleet. Also, he found himself becoming attracted to someone else. He thought he'd finally gotten through to her when he arrived at his room to find a massive arrangement on his desk.

Even more surprising was the man standing beside them. Neither man said anything. Spock identified each flower in the bouquet quickly – Forget-Me-Nots in faded blue and pink and white, amaranths in vivid purple and red, a few light purple iris, beautiful white jonquil all surrounding red and cream tulips. He glanced up at Jim, who was watching him with hesitation. The Captain said nothing, nodding toward the note lying there. Spock didn't need to look at it to know what it said. He pushed it back toward Jim, letting their fingers brush lightly.

_I love you._


	32. Night

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Abuse, Depression, Teenage!Spock and Teenage!Jim  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 800  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xxxii. Night. Spock woke to a pounding on his window that could only be James Kirk.  
><em>

_**A/N: **_This section is a high school AU, inspired by a Skillet song._  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Night<strong>

Spock woke to a pounding on his window in the middle of the night that could only be James Kirk. He'd only recently befriended the human child, three years younger than his own eighteen, at the request of his mother. As a senior, he didn't frequently interact with lower classmen, even ones who were in most of his classes.

"It is the middle of the night, Jim," Spock said, opening his window and letting Jim in. He knew something was wrong as soon as the younger boy got through the window. Jim looked pale and anxious. "Is something wrong?"

"Hmm?" Jim spun around, clearly surprised to see Spock though he'd been the one to come over. "No. I'm fine, Spock. Really." Despite that, Jim began pacing. It took Spock a moment to realize the teen was favoring one side, the most likely cause being bruised or broken ribs.

"You are injured." Spock was taken by surprise when Jim looked at him. There was a sickly green bruise growing on the man's cheek. Irrationally, Spock wanted to close the distance between them and offer some kind of comfort, but his Vulcan training held and he kept himself motionless. This wasn't the first time Jim had shown up with bruises, though it certainly was the first time Spock expected a reason other than adolescent clumsiness.

"Just a bruise," Jim said, shrugging. The motion made him wince. "I just wanted to tell you that you're a great friend." The pacing stopped. Jim's bright blue eyes met Spock's brown ones and held them. "Probably the best friend I've ever had. And…I just wanted you to know that. And…And I'm okay now. Because of you."

"Jim –"

"No. Let me finish," Jim took a step back when Spock stepped forward. "I know your mom pushed you to become my friend, but I hope we're past the stage of her interference?" He smiled through the discomfort when Spock nodded tensely. "Yeah. So then I can tell you that you need to loosen up a bit. I mean, you're great when people get to know you, but you're kind of…off putting to strangers. And you can't use the Vulcan bit, because you've been on Earth for four years, so you're no stranger to our social habits."

"Why do you feel the need to give me instruction on social interactions?" Spock asked.

"I won't always be around to translate for you," Jim said with a chuckle. It was a light hearted comment, but Spock wasn't oblivious to the dark undertone of the human's voice.

"Is there something wrong, Jim?" Spock took another step forward and this time Jim didn't move. He turned his head to the side so he wasn't meeting Spock's eyes when he answered.

"'Course not, Spock," Jim's voice wasn't convincing, though. "I'm…I'm going to be fine." Spock wanted to believe him, wanted to let Jim go, but he found that he couldn't. He would never have believed it, but he cared for Jim more than he did for anyone else, save his mother.

"I'm here for you," He said, hoping his tone was reassuring. He took another step forward and awkwardly placed his arms around Jim, careful to avoid the side with the bruised ribs. Jim stiffened at first, and then clung back. Spock was taken by surprise and adjusted his arms around the smaller man.

"I can't do anything right," Jim said softly, so softly Spock almost didn't hear it. "It'll be better this way. Everyone will be happier." Spock couldn't come up with a response for a few moments. He couldn't believe Jim could believe that about himself. He'd been so wrapped up in his own problems, he'd been blind to Jim's.

"I won't be," Spock said.

"Frank said I'm useless. And Winona…Winona hasn't answered but every time she calls she tells me to listen to Frank, so she must agree." Spock's fists bunched. He hadn't met either of Jim's parents, but he'd just assumed everyone's family was like his own. Suddenly the bruises all fell into place, and Spock's anger grew, which he hadn't believed possible. A strong desire to protect Jim was stronger. "I've got nothing."

"You are not useless," Spock said. "And I will not leave you." He desperately wished for his mother's advice. She would know the words to say to make Jim feel better. He had no words. He had never been good with words. Instead, he stepped away from Jim, the human letting his arms fall away easily. Spock didn't let himself hesitate, though he was surprised to find he didn't want to, and lifted his hand to touch Jim's. It was just a surface meld, not as invasive as if he'd initiated a full meld, but it was enough to convey his feelings toward Jim.


	33. Expectations

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Pike  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 143  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xxxiii. Expectations. No one expected anything of Jim._

* * *

><p><strong>Expectations<strong>

No one expected anything of Jim. After the initial surge of press coverage, he faded into the background. No one wanted to wait for an infant to grow into his potential. Every few years his name would be tossed around, and a reporter would do a short report on him that would end up in the middle of some minor paper, no more than a couple of lines. As he grew older, the press seemed to forget him altogether. Even his parents didn't expect anything of him. His mother barely looked at him. Frank didn't even expect Jim to wake up in the morning let alone finish high school. So when Jim met a man at a bar who looked at him like he could be someone someday, he would have done anything to get someone to look at him like that again.


	34. Stars

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Winona  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 348  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xxxiv. Stars. Earth or Stars?_

**A/N: **I've got a thing for fics like this, so I'll apologize. And look, it's that darn tree again. Anyhow, I'm planning on uploading the next chapter of 'STYW_.' _Also, I'll be expanding the 'Night' chapter into a full fic eventually. No idea of a time frame yet, though. I'd like to get 'STYW' going first. 

And, as always, a million thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! I'm awful about responding to them, since that link in the notification doesn't work. But just know that I love you all and I'm so glad you're liking these!_  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Stars<strong>

"What are you looking at, sweetheart?" Jim down from the tree at his mother, clutching a blanket around her shoulders against the cold. She was home for less than a week before heading back to Starfleet. Being away so often, she hadn't witnessed Jim's nightly ritual before. Regardless of the weather he would climb the single tree in the back yard and look up at the stars.

"The stars," He said, turning his head back to the heavens. He was surprised when he felt the tree shake, and looked to see his mother climbing the tree. She wasn't as nimble at it as he was, but she moved quickly and assuredly, as if she'd done it before.

"Your dad and I used to do the same thing," She said, stopping several branches below him. She was too heavy to sit on the smaller upper branches. Even fourteen year old Jim was almost too big. "Before."

"Really?" He looked at his mother, her eyes turned toward the sky. She had a faraway look and a slight smile that he'd never seen before.

"George said he never felt more like himself than when he was among the stars. Looking at them was almost as good," Her expression turned wistful and she looked back at him. She didn't talk about her husband often, and Jim treasured every word.

"Is it the same for you?"

"No," She admitted. "No, I'm always happiest on the ground." That came as a surprise. After George Kirk's death, Winona had enlisted full time in Starfleet and had spent about a month on Earth in Jim's entire life. "What about you? Earth or stars?"

"Earth," He lied. He was already too much like the father he never met. He saw the pain in his mother's eyes when she looked at him. He vowed then that he would never join Starfleet. He wouldn't make his mother think he was anything like George Kirk. He'd sacrifice his happiness for his mother's. It was the least he could do.


	35. Hold My Hand

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 245  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xxxv. Hold My Hand. You could just say you want me to hold your hand. _

* * *

><p><strong>Hold My Hand<strong>

Jim wasn't used to being the visitor in Sick Bay. He'd been in and out of Bones' terrain at least once a month for some injury, illness, or reaction. He didn't like not being able to help, so he took to pacing. He found some comfort in the physical activity, and it kept him from lingering on the form lying prone on the bed.

Spock had sustained a minor head injury when he pulled Jim out of the way of a phaser blast and fell. They'd been transported out and Spock was taken straight to Bones, who scanned the Vulcan and threw up his hands, mumbling something about hard heads. All there was left to do was wait for Spock to wake up.

"Jim," Spock's voice was faint, but it stopped Jim in his tracks. He spun quickly, shoes squeaking on the floor.

"Spock!" Jim rushed to Spock's side. "What do you need? Should I go get Bones? Are you okay? How's your head?" Jim was babbling, but he couldn't shut up. He wasn't used to being helpless. Spock indulged him for a moment – even frantic his bondmate's voice was soothing. When Jim was forced to pause to take a breath, Spock interrupted him.

"There is something you can do," The Vulcan said.

"What?"

"A light bond will aide in my recovery, and will not cause you any pain," Spock explained, patient as always.

"You could just say you want me to hold your hand."


	36. Fairy Tale

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 394  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xxxvi. Fairy Tale. Not a typical fairy tale. _

_**A/N: **_So this isn't what I originally planned. This was actually the first chapter I wrote, but it was drastically different. I'm going to type up and post the original version as a separate one-shot eventually. That being said, I hope you enjoy this one - it's a little bit different from the others.

* * *

><p><strong>Fairy Tale<strong>

In this fairy tale, there is no princess, just two not-quite-princes who never had a home. The bad guy isn't a wicked witch but a grieving widower from the future holding a grudge for a tragedy which never occurred. It isn't love at first sight; they can't even be in the same room without fighting physically or verbally. Despite that, they are connected by their grief – one lost a mother, the other born fatherless.

There are no mirrors or pumpkins or enchanted sleeps. There is a wicked stepfather, but he's overcome before the princes meet. There's a best friend who might be a fairy godmother – godfather – but instead of wielding magic he wields hypos and oaths. He doesn't change rags to riches or put a midnight curfew, but he does fix broken bones patch up cuts like new.

It's still the middle of the story. They're waiting for the happily ever after, but they're past the kiss that changes lives. They know it's not the ever after because there's no phaser fire or hostile encounters once the story's over. There's no waiting up all night for the read out to show he's awake. There's no endless pacing in the halls waiting for the word that the lifeless body isn't as dead as it felt flung over his shoulder. The joy when the news comes is good, but its short and before long there's another disaster to ruin the idea of happily ever after.

In this fairy tale, there is no princess, no wicked witch, no dancing shoes or dwarves or bread crumbs or frog. There is no love at first sight or happily ever after. What there is, is two people who never should have met who did. Two people who should have lived lives ignorant of the other who melded together to form a whole that filled a part of the other that wasn't known to be empty. So there's no magic or spells or enchantments, but this is a fairy tale that will be told for centuries until the truth is overlapped with fiction. Maybe the friend will be a fairy godfather and the wicked stepfather will play a role and the evil wizard is vanquished by the brave princes with a heroic speech full of honor and love. But the underlying truth is that two people fell in love and lived.


	37. Eyes

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 292  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xxxvii. Eyes. Your eyes are different. _

**A/N: **Set after _Narada_ incident but before returning to Earth._  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Eyes<strong>

Jim didn't realize he'd been staring until the object of his attention lifted a carefully sculpted eyebrow. Normally, he wouldn't be caught dead looking at the Vulcan, but he was tired and there was something nagging him about Spock. It bothered him that he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was.

"Is something the matter, Captain?" Jim was shaken out of his thoughts again. He shouldn't be staring at Spock when he had so many other things to do. Captain Pike had woken up and after Bones finished examining him, he expected a report from Jim on what had happened during his absence. And yet…

"Your eyes," Jim said. He'd seen more Vulcan's in the past few hours than ever before in his life. He'd thought Spock a typical Vulcan, but he was aware that many Vulcan's gave Spock odd glances.

"Excuse me?" Spock asked, brows lifting even higher.

"Your eyes are different." He glanced across the room where Spock's father was speaking with several other Vulcans. "They look almost…human."

"My mother is…was Amanda Greyson," Spock explained. There was no hint of pain or anger in his absolutely Vulcan expression. "As Ambassador to Earth, my father married a human."

"I'm sorry about earlier," Jim said, sensing he'd hit on a sensitive topic. "I was…"

"You did what was necessary," Spock's tone was clipped. Jim accepted the acknowledgement with a cocky grin that made the Vulcan clench, visible only in a slight hardening of his human eyes. "I must go assist the Vulcan refugees."

Jim watched him leave, shaking his head and thinking back to his conversation with the older Spock. Perhaps it would be easier than he thought to find that friendship.


	38. Abandoned

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Pike, Uhura  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 188  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xxxviii. Abandoned. It's six lives if I obey. _

* * *

><p>Abandoned<p>

"Respectfully, Admiral Pike, I refuse to abandon any of my men," Kirk's voice cut through the calm voice of the man on the screen. Everyone on the Bridge was silent, holding their breath and waiting to see the outcome of this latest clash between their Captain and the Admirality. This was the first time Captain Kirk openly defied authority. Normally he managed to talk them around.

"This isn't something you can cheat, Captain Kirk," Christopher Pike refused to raise his voice. From the set of Kirk's jaw he knew he was in a losing fight. He dropped the pretense of Admirality and adopted what Jim recognized as his father tone. "You're risking more than just your job here, kid.

"It's six lives if I obey, sir," Jim said. "So I appreciate your warning, but I think our transmission is about to get interrupted. See you at the trial." He glanced to his right and Uhura shut down the transmission. No one spoke, turning to look at their Captain for their next move.

"Any volunteers to beam with me down to the planet?"


	39. Water

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 424  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xxxix. Water. Jim needs Spock more than water in the desert. _

* * *

><p><strong>Water<strong>

It was hot. That was the extent of Jim's thoughts as he forced his feet to wade through the sand of the planet. He was too tired to even curse the transporter malfunction that sent him to the middle of the desert instead of the forest they were supposed to be surveying. He'd run out of water hours ago, and there was none in sight, save the mirage in the distance, always moving further out of reach. He had to hope someone would find him, but if they didn't he needed to stay moving. He knew he only had hours left before his body succumbed to the harsh climate.

He couldn't be sure how much time passed because time didn't mean much when he was delirious. He almost cried in relief when he found a single tree growing. From the indent beside it, he was sure it must have been an oasis at some point, but whatever water there was had dried up long ago. He dug frantically, ignoring the cuts and scrapes on his hands but he couldn't find water. The sand was moist, though, and he put his chapped lips to it, sucking out what little moisture he could. It wasn't enough. He didn't believe in no win situations, but then will power could only get him so far. The last coherent thought he had was that it was too bad he hadn't asked Spock out while he had the chance.

He wasn't aware he'd passed out until he was being shook awake, something wet pressed to his lips. He gulped the water frantically, reaching for it when it was pulled away.

"You are severely dehydrated, Captain," He'd never been so happy to hear Spock's voice. He clung to the Vulcan as he was easily lifted. "Your body will react poorly if you drink too much."

"Spock," Jim's lips burned as he formed the name. "I need…"

"You can have more water after we are beamed up." Spock said. Jim shook his head, clinging tighter as the movement made the world spin. Spock waited for him to speak.

"Not water," Jim said. "You. I need you. I need to ask you…" He couldn't think of any words to express his feelings. Later he would blame it on the dehydration, but he found himself pressing his lips to Spock's, his hand reaching up to cup the Vulcan's cheek. He needed Spock more than he needed water, and from the way Spock responded, he felt the same.


	40. Rated

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Gaila, Uhura  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 426  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xl. Rated. Who'd Jim rate higher than Uhura?_

**A/N: **Thank you to everyone who reviews this story. I may not be responding to them, but I really appreciate it. It's only a week in to summer semester and I'm already drowning, hence the slow updates. Hopefully things will return to normal, and if not, at least there's only five weeks left.

* * *

><p><strong>Rated<strong>

When Uhura walked into the mess hall to see Kirk and Gaila sitting together, she knew they were up to no good. Their heads were close together, whispering something that was punctuated by laughter from both parties. After a rough initial meeting, which involved Jim hiding under the bed and getting kicked out when Uhura caught him which culminated in nearly dying by the hands of a psychopathic murderer, the two had become good friends. Knowing she would regret it, Uhura walked towards the two.

"What are you two up to?" She asked, sitting down across the table from them.

"Rating the crew," Gaila said with a wicked grin. "Jimmy started it." Jim ducked the roll Uhura threw at him.

"You're the Captain," She said. "You can't go around judging the crew."

"You're the only female he rated above an eight," Gaila said helpfully. Jim kicked her under the table but she just yelped and glared at him.

"Well, than-" Her eyes narrowed. "The only female? Then the skirt chaser here rated…"

"Do we really have to do this?" Jim rolled his eyes. "Just because you've only noticed the women, doesn't mean I limit myself to one half of the population. Or one third in some species."

"Did I at least get the highest rating?" She asked.

"Yes –"

"No," Gaila interrupted earning another glare from Jim.

"Then who did?"

"Spock."


	41. Teamwork

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Minor cursing  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 461  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xli. Teamwork. Jim thought the letter asking him to report to 'team bonding exercises' was a joke. _An AU story set in present day where Jim and Spock work in an office. 

* * *

><p><strong>Teamwork<strong>

Jim thought it was a joke when he got the memo in his box that he and his team had to report for 'team bonding exercises.' It was obvious that it wasn't when his second in command, Spock, arrived at his office fifteen minutes before the scheduled exercise with an expression that to anyone else would look stoic but which Jim recognized as annoyed. He bit back the rude retort he had waiting and took a deep breath. Something about the man just rubbed Jim the wrong way.

Jim was new to the office, taking over as executive president of the department within three years. Most of the people he worked with accepted his promotion without hesitation – he was charismatic and actually _cared_ about people. Everyone expect Spock. Spock defied him constantly, arguing over every little decision, even going so far as to report Jim to their superiors.

"Before you say anything," Jim said, holding up a hand to ward off the words he knows are about to come out of Spock's mouth. "I had nothing to do with it."

"How can you know to what I am here to inquire about?" Jim forces himself _not_ to clench his fists, and places a calm smile on his face instead because it isn't Spock's fault his voice grates on Jim's nerves like nothing else has in his 24 years of his life.

"You're holding a blue sheet of paper," Jim said, holding up his own 'invitation' to the teamwork exercise. "Not hard to guess."

"Very well," Spock said, glancing down at the paper in his hand briefly and back at Jim. Jim flopped onto his chair, spinning around and lifting his feet on his desk just to see that flicker of disgust on Spock's face. "Though I believe psychological games to build teamwork are ineffective, perhaps in our case it may prove helpful."

"Whatever you say," Jim wanted Spock gone as quickly as possible. He was only able to hold his temper in check for so long. "So if that's all…"

"Of course," Spock nodded - a stiff jerking of his head and neck - before turning on his heels to leave.

"See ya at the meeting, assistant," Jim couldn't help the last taunt, smiling at the unconscious tightening it caused in Spock's shoulders. Perhaps the team building exercises would be fun. If nothing else, he could always use the time to provoke Spock. Maybe he'd break down and finally give Jim a reason to get him fired. On the other hand, Jim wasn't sure what his life would be without Spock. Even though he was a total ass, Jim always looked forward to his conversations with Spock.


	42. Standing Still

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Injury  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock, Bones  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 501  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xlii. Standing Still. For the first time all day, Jim stood still. _

* * *

><p><strong>Standing Still<strong>

Kirk paced nervously. He couldn't help it. When he got upset or happy or angry – any emotion really – he had to move. He preferred running or fighting, but in such close quarters neither of those was an option. Plus, he didn't think Bones would be up to a sparring match when he had half a dozen scientists suffering from injuries that ranged from second degree burns to shattered bones. When Jim tried to enter the sick bay, he'd been met with a stony faced nurse who'd told him he was to _stay out_ _or else_. So he paced nervously in the hallway along with a few other crew members who had ties to someone locked in Bones' domain.

"Jim," The Captain spun around at the sound of his name. Bones was standing in the doorway, using a rag to wipe the sweat off his brow. There was a blood stain still drying on his shirt that he must have missed, and Jim felt relieved and slightly selfish that it was red and not green. Any relief was momentary when he saw Bones' expression.

"What is it?" The other crewmembers drifted to the side to let Jim pass out of respect for his station and because they recognized the look on his face. Jim vanished behind the doors with the doctor.

"Have you heard anything from the investigation into what happened?" Bones stopped Jim before he could see any of the patients. Jim tapped his foot, shifting from side to side as Bones talked. He just couldn't stop moving.

"Hmm?" He pulled his attention back to Bones, he'd been looking around, hoping to get a glimpse of Spock past the bustling nurses. "No. They're still running tests. No one can figure out exactly what it was that Spock's team was working on."

"Well, whatever it was, it seems like Spock took most of the damage," Bones glanced back at a nurse who approached. She whispered something in his ear and he nodded.

"Is he okay?" Jim's breath caught when Bones hesitated. He imagined the worst, his hands tapping unconsciously against his leg.

"You've gotta calm down," Bones hissed. "It's not like he's your boyfriend…" Jim glanced up harshly and Bones groaned. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Just let me see him, Bones," Jim said. "Please." His hands stopped tapping and he resumed his pacing until his friend grabbed his shoulder and turned him sharply.

"You just have to trust me when I say it's not as bad as it looks." And with that, Bones turned and started walking. Jim lurched after him, practically running. He could _smell _it before he saw it. Spock was lying in a bed in a private room with several nurses holding dermal regenerators over burns all over his arms, chest, neck and face. Jim made it to the door before stopping in his tracks. For the first time all day, he stood still.


	43. Dying

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Injury  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock, Bones  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 320  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xliii. Dying. Dying suddenly didn't seem so important. _

* * *

><p>Dying<p>

Yes, Jim could feel the spreading burn on his upper right shoulder where the phaser had burned his skin almost through the bone as it narrowly missed him. His hands were burning where they'd been torn up as he threw himself forward and onto the hard rock. He was also pretty sure he'd bruised – if not cracked – a few ribs and the way his vision blurred, coupled with the feeling of water running though his hair probably indicated that at some point he'd managed to hit his head. He could feel all that, but it really wasn't all that important.

He might even be dying. He felt bad enough for that to be true. Keeping his eyes open for more than a few seconds sent sharp pain to his head that rivaled the pain he'd felt when he'd lifted the bottle of Chech'tluth when he was fifteen. He'd learned to stay clear of Klingon alcohol after that. He couldn't feel his feet, though he was pretty sure they were still there. The lack of pain actually alerted him to that. His hands were also starting to go numb as well. And though he couldn't lift his head, he didn't think there was _actually _a boulder crushing it like it felt.

And yet, dying didn't seem so bad. Not that he wanted to die. But if he did, at least it would be at the highest point of his life. He and Spock had been bonded just a few days previous after two years of running circles around each other. Said bondmate was standing beside him, saying something that Jim just couldn't understand, though just the comforting tones were enough to sooth him. So yeah, it would suck to die because he was finally in a good place in his life, but if Bones couldn't pull another miracle save out of his hat, at least he would die happy.


	44. Two Paths

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Spock/unnamedbondmate  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 289  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xliv. Two Roads. Spock had two paths he could follow. _

* * *

><p>Two Roads<p>

Spock always saw two options to how the road of his life could go, not that Vulcans were metaphorical thinkers, but it was a remnant from his human half that he enjoyed but kept to himself. He had meditated on each option for hours, and yet when he reached his 20th year he still wasn't any closer to an answer. His parents were likewise unhelpful. His father just repeated that he was a child of two worlds, while his mother assured him she would be proud regardless of his decision. So he applied to both the Vulcan Science Academy and Starfleet Academy, further putting off his decision on which half of his heritage he would chose.

As the days drew nearer to when a decision would be forced, the dreams became more vivid. In one, he got everything he thought he wanted. He would graduate from the Vulcan Science Academy at the top of his class and go on to live a long, easy life as a valued member of society. He would never be forgiven for his parentage, but his achievements would outweight it on most days.

In the other dream he wasn't always happy. In fact, he was rarely happy in Starfleet. He would spend years overcoming cultural prejudices. The demands of his job would be strenuous both physically and mentally and the gratification few and far between. But when he was happy, it would be consuming in a way his Vulcan half wasn't even able to process. Even still he couldn't make up his mind. When he stood facing the Vulcan Science Academy, he had every intention of accepting. When he accepted his promotion to Admiral of Starfleet, bondmate beside him, he was glad he didn't.


	45. Heaven

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **teenage!Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 100  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xlv. Heaven. Do you believe in heaven?_

**A/N: **Sorry for three in one day. I'm afraid my love of Star Trek was distracted by an affair with Glee. I'm working on stories for my new obsession, but I won't be abandoning this or 'Across the Hall.' The most time consuming thing is Organic Chemistry, so...Yeah. I'm still here, even if I miss a few days. Also, this was written before I started publishing this story. It's one of the fifteen or so I did just to make sure I'd be able to do it. xD

* * *

><p><strong>Heaven<strong>

"Do you believe in heaven?" Jim had been asked that question half a dozen times and each time he'd said yes, he did. Looking out at the wasteland that had become his home with a knee crushing his chest and a hand around his throat he wasn't sure. Before he could answer, he saw a flash of dark hair and dark eyes urging him to live, fight, _live._ In a flash, he had gotten out of his captors grasp, phaser pressed against the blonde man's hair.

"I do," He whispered, flipping the switch from 'stun' to 'kill.' "But do you?"


	46. Family

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock, OC Amanda Kirk  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 362  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xlvi. Family. First graders talk about their families._

* * *

><p><strong>Family<strong>

"So who wants to present first on their families?" In unison, a dozen first graders threw their hands in the air. The teacher, a middle aged woman with black hair pulled back in a bun, scanned the crowd and settled on a girl sitting in the middle who was almost jumping out of her chair.

"Amanda Kirk," The girl jumped up, black hair swinging in a pony tail and blue eyes shining. Mrs. Brier knew Amanda favored her human heritage in almost all aspects, save for the very peculiar habit she had of concealing her emotions that went beyond what the other six year olds were capable of.

"I brought a picture of my family," She held up a blown up image of eight people, all dressed in Starfleet uniforms. She was seated on the shoulders of a blonde man with blue eyes that matched hers. "This is Uncle Hikaru, Uncle Pasha, Uncle Scotty, Auntie Gaila, Uncle Bones, Auntie Nyota and father and I'm on daddy's shoulders." She pointed to each person as she spoke.

"They all live on the _Enterprise_ which is a space ship in Starfleet except father and daddy. They used to but now they're Amdi..Adri…" She looked up at the teacher with a frown.

"Admirals?"

"Yeah. Admirals. So that means they get to live on Earth again which is sad because I miss my Uncles and Aunts when they go back into space. And I miss living on the _Enterprise_ because it's a lot of fun except when the scary people come." She rambled on, telling stories of her time on the _Enterprise_ that made everyone in the class wish they'd been in her place. When she finally finished, everyone clapped and Mrs. Brier let out a breath she'd been holding. She knew it was a risk when she'd made the assignment. Though same-sex marriages had been legal for just over a century, it still wasn't very common and she had been worried someone would say something inappropriate.

"Thank you, Amanda," She said, smiling as the little girl took her seat in the center of the room. "Who's next?"


	47. Creation

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Cursing  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Spock, Bones  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 498  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xlvii. Creation. Despite her innocent look, the three grown men stayed far away from the padlocked iron cage._

* * *

><p><strong>Creation<strong>

"What do we do with it?" Jim looked down at the child locked in the cage. It's bright blue eyes were wide, shining with unshed tears and its lip quivered slightly. It's sex was unclear, though it's features leaned toward the feminine with a small nose and pale complexion. Despite her innocent look, the three grown men stayed far away from the padlocked iron cage.

"It is dangerous," Spock said, observing the child as if she was one of his science experiments. "It is the last of it's kind. Death would be merciful for the pain it has caused." He took a step forward and the thing went from innocent to monster in a second. She bared her teeth, all filed canines, and lunged at the bars, rattling them and threatening to knock the cage over.

"I know you're right." Jim took a step closer, bending down to see the thing better. She hissed at him, but the reaction wasn't as violent as it was to Spock.

"I wish we could have caught the bastard who created these children." Bones was standing in the back of the room with his arms crossed. His expression was dark and Jim knew he was agreeing with Spock.

"It still feels like murdering a child," Jim said, standing and striding away from the cage. "There has to be another option. Can't we…"

"It'll be painless," Bones said, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "She's too dangerous to leave alive. And the only people who'd be willing to take her would run so many experiments on her she'll wish she was dead."

"I must agree with Doctor McCoy," Spock said, stepping back to stand level with the other two.

"Fine," Jim stood taller, shaking off Bones' hand and adopting an air of authority. "Get it over with, then." Bones hesitated, but Jim wouldn't meet his eyes so he grabbed the hypo sitting on the table and approached the cage.

"I'm sorry, hun," Bones put on the thick gloves and reached in the cage. To his surprise, the girl didn't try to attack him, but instead reached a hand up held onto one finger. She blinked up at him and he hesitated. She looked so much like his Joanna when she was a baby. She let go of his finger and reached her arms up in a familiar gesture. Knowing it could still be a trick, he glanced back at Jim whose expression was unusually guarded. She took advantage of his moment of distraction and leapt up, arms latching around his neck. He tensed, and from the corner of his eyes he saw both Jim and Spock tense as well.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice more mature than a normal three year old child. Somewhere along the way he'd dropped the hypo, and he lifted his hands up to support her so she wasn't hanging on his neck.


	48. Childhood

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **OC Grace  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 147  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xlviii. Childhood. Sometimes she felt like she was trapped..._

**A/N: **I normally don't do OCs. And yes, this is the child from the previous story. I'm going to expand this for my own sake. If anyone else is interested in reading it, I may consider posting it._  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Childhood<strong>

Grace knew she was different. She didn't know her parents and had no memories or pictures before she was three. There were also physical differences. She wasn't so obviously different as Spock, but when she smiled, instead of incisors, premolars and molars, she only had sharp canines. Her eyes, normally blue, could flash any range of colors when her temper flared, something she'd never seen anyone else do.

Despite the differences, she was adopted by the crewmembers of the _Enterprise_ easily. Her childhood wasn't typical, she didn't have formal school and she never met children her own age. There were no pony rides or sleepovers on the weekends. She never set foot on a planet, and hadn't even seen anyone who wasn't a permanent fixture on the ship. Sometimes she felt like she was trapped, and others she felt like she had the world at her fingertips.


	49. Stripes

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 218  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xlix. Stripes. One stripe for four years._

**A/N: **I've got today's chapter written, but words cannot express how tired I am. Organic Chemistry for a second time is even harder then the first means, don't take Organic Chemistry ever. Just don't do it. Take Calculus III instead. Or Bridge to Abstract Mathematics. Those are classes that make sense.

* * *

><p><strong>Stripes<strong>

This wasn't the first time Jim was given a stripe. Every four years of his service he had been awarded a new stripe. This was the start of his thirteenth year, and in his hand, he was holding his third stripe. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, looking at it, before Spock came into their room.

"Is something wrong?" Jim was aware of Spock the moment he entered the room, something he took for granted after eight years of being bondmates, so he didn't even glance up as the Vulcan took a seat beside him.

"My father only had two," He said. He used to sneak into the old barn where he hid his father's things when Frank moved in with them. His favorite thing was the Starfleet uniform. He'd pull it on over his clothes, pushing the sleeves and pant legs up and imagining what Starfleet was like. Jim would trace the fingers of the awards sewn onto the rough fabric. George Kirk was a science officer, and unlike Jim, his uniform was blue. The style was also slightly different – the modern uniforms were more aerodynamic and made of lighter and stronger material.

"He would be proud of you," Spock said. Gently, he unclenched Jim's fingers from the package. "I am proud of you, t'hy'la."


	50. Breaking the Rules

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 725  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_l. Breaking the Rules. Spock was fully aware of each rule he was breaking by setting foot in the Lower City._

**A/N: **Halfway done! _  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Breaking the Rules<strong>

Spock was fully aware of each rule he was breaking by setting foot in the Lower City. As son of one of the members of the Vulcan High Council, he'd memorized each law and could recite them word-perfect on command, which meant he knew exactly what the punishment for mingling with the Humans.

The young Vulcan wore a light cloak pulled over his head to hide the markers of his species – black, cropped hair, pointed ears and straight, slanted eyebrows. He'd traded his traditional black outfit for something less ostentatious that he'd borrowed from one of his father's slaves.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He'd thought he was blending in well when he was suddenly confronted by a boy about his age with flashing blue eyes and blond hair. Spock could do nothing but stare. This Human could be his polar opposite, radiating light where Spock was dark.

"E…excuse me?" He winced, all too aware of his distinct Vulcan pronunciation.

"You shouldn't be here," The boy said, reaching out and grabbing Spock's hand. A thrill passed through the Vulcan at the physical contact and he was too shocked to recoil. "Come with me."

"Who are you?" It was a loaded question. What was this strange boy's name? How had he recognized Spock when hundreds had just walked past unaware? Where had he come from? Where were they going? And why did he get the distinct feeling that they'd met before?

The questions went unanswered as Spock was led by the hand through the crowded streets of the Lower City. Despite his superior memory, he quickly lost track of the twists and turns the younger boy so skillfully navigated. The Upper City was laid out carefully, each road in a perfectly straight line, kept up beautifully. The Vulcan's resided there, and had for the past two hundred years when they'd invaded after their land in the South had been destroyed. The Humans had put up a fight, but eventually been subdued and forced into service. The Lower City housed the Humans who served the Vulcan's and their families.

"Go back to your people," the boy said, coming to a stop at the smooth, black stone wall that separated the upper and lower cities. There was a small indent that the Human grabbed and pulled to reveal a door that wasn't on any map Spock had ever seen. "You choose a pretty stupid day to tour the slums." Spock recognized the word as slang for the Lower City. He'd heard several slaves use it before they realized he was in the room.

"Why is that?" Spock asked.

"Let's just say you're not the only one who's going to break the rules today," the boy said, releasing Spock's hand. The lack of physical contact was even more jarring, leaving the Vulcan momentarily disoriented. "In about an hour, you're going to want to make sure you're inside, okay?"

"Why are you doing this?" Spock still wasn't sure what the Human was alluding to, but he caught a tense undercurrent that was fascinating. And the way the boy kept glancing around, not on the Vulcan side of the wall but back towards the throng of humans, indicated he didn't want any of his own species to overhear him.

"I don't know," he admitted. "There's something…different…about you. Different from other…you know…Vulcans and Humans. Normally when one of you people want to look around the slums you get about a million guards and shove people out of the way. But you didn't. I don't think anyone else could recognize what you were. So just stay inside today, alright? And if you ever come back, go to the Enterprise, it's a bar right inside the slum, and ask for Jim."

"Jim," Spock repeated, trying to follow the Human's jumbled speech. "I'm Spock." He said belatedly.

"Yeah?" Jim's lips twisted in a wry smile. "Your names are kind of dumb, by the way. But Spock? Yeah, I can see that." He gave Spock a gentle shove towards the door and turned to leave. He didn't go far before he turned back around. "Don't tell anyone about this, yeah?" And before Spock could come up with a response, Jim had vanished into the crowd.


	51. Sport

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 159  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_li. Sport. Why chess counts as a sport._

**A/N: **Over halfway done! Also, I will be continuing the previous chapter into a longer story.

* * *

><p><strong>Sport<strong>

"Chess is not a sport, Spock!"

"On the contrary, I believe it demonstrates both qualifiers of what has deemed a 'true sport'."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes. It demands both a level of physical fitness and strategy."

"My grandmother could play chess, and she can't even walk up a flight of stairs."

"I was under the impression both your mother and father's parents died before you were born."

"That's not the point!"

"But if you do not have a grandmother, then your argument is invalid."

"It's the spirit of the thing, Spock. It means any old lady could play chess."

"Only if they have the physical capacity to remain seated for extended periods of time."

"Seriously?"

"Without the ability to remain focused in a stationary position, it is impossible to play a game of chess to it's fullest."

"Fine. You win, Spock. Chess is a sport...Check-mate."


	52. Deep in Thought

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Mentions of bondage/sexual references  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock, Leonard/Nyota  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 276  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lii. Deep in Thought. That's the Jim Kirk we know._

* * *

><p><strong>Deep in Thought<strong>

"What's wrong with him?" Leonard McCoy had known Jim Kirk for years and he'd never seen the man sitting so still for any extended period of time. Despite the noise of the mess hall, the Captain seemed to be sleeping in his seat.

"I do not know," Spock said, eyes never leaving his bondmate. Jim didn't seem ill the day before, but Spock had been in his labs all night and hadn't seen Jim in almost eighteen hours.

"Is he sleeping?" Nyota leaned against Leonard, their hands intertwined between them.

"I do not believe that is the case," Spock said, a light frown marring his normally stoic features. "I believe he is…thinking about something."

Nyota snorted. "Jim doesn't think about anything. He just does whatever pops up in that tiny little mind of his. No offense intended." She added the last looking up at Spock. She had been bitter at first, until she realized she hadn't truly been happy with the half-Vulcan. At least, not as happy as Jim seemed to be with him.

"I have to agree with Nyota on this one," Leonard said. "I've never known Jim to think ahead for anything."

"While I would be inclined to agree with you, I am certain that is the case." No one else could get in another word as Jim suddenly turned around, frowning at his friends.

"You know, you could just ask me what I'm thinking about instead of insulting me where I can hear you," His frown quickly vanished to be replaced by a sly smile. "It involves Spock, whipped cream and handcuffs."


	53. Keeping a Secret

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Mentions of past abuse  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock, OC  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 437  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_liii. Keeping a Secret. Some secrets don't need to be kept._

* * *

><p><strong>Keeping a Secret<strong>

"Can I tell you a secret?" Jim was sitting at a bar in Iowa, nursing a tall glass of clear blue liquid. His Starfleet uniform that he was so proud of was hidden under a thick black jacket, only the gold collar peeking out. The bartender, an older man with a limp, glanced up at his last customer. Everyone else had gone home for the night, but something about the lost looking man had incited pity.

"What's on your mind, kid?" Jim looked up, almost as if he was surprised to see someone there. A wry smile lit his lips, and he shook his head lightly. Before he spoke, he finished his drink in one gulp and slammed the glass down.

"I'm good at keeping secrets," he said. His words were slurred, but still easy enough to understand. The bartender was surprised about that as the one drink alone was enough to put most men under the table. It was Jim's third of the night. "Y'know?"

"No one thinks so, but I am," He waved his hand at his glass, and the man obliged him by filling it up again. He'd taken Jim's keys earlier. "Not even my best friend knows anything about my life. And now there's this guy…and he's pretty much perfect. With pretty ears and black hair and…Unnngh. But I'm screwed up," Jim tapped his head, missing the first time and stabbing at open air. He cringed when he did make contact. "Screwed up so bad."

"I'm sure you're not," the man said, only half listening. He'd learned long ago that listening to drunks didn't require very much attention.

"I am," Jim said, laughing and taking another gulp. "But he told me he loves me. Which is weird, right? I mean…he doesn't know anything about me. Not really."

"What doesn't he know?"

"Ahhh…That would be telling," Jim wagged a finger at the man. "My stepfather beat me. I've still got the scars. I tried to kill myself two…no three times. Does it count when you drive a car off a cliff? 'Cause then it's four times. But I did jump out."

"Listen, kid," the bartender glanced at the clock, realizing he was supposed to close half an hour ago. "Some secrets don't need to be kept. And if this guy means what he says, he won't think you're screwed up. But now it's time for you to go."

"Thanks man," Jim said, standing up. "You're smart."

"Need a cab?"

"Nah. I'll call a friend."


	54. Tower

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Crossover  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 625  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_liv. Tower. Secret meeting at the top of the Astronomy Tower._

**A/N: **So this is my first attempt at a crossover. A Harry Potter crossover, to be exact. It's very light on the actual crossover stuff but...Yeah. 

* * *

><p><strong>Tower<strong>

The Astronomy tower was off limits save when class was being held, but that never stopped Jim Kirk from sneaking up in the middle of the night. He loved looking up at the stars without having to worry about mapping them or reciting the book back to the old astronomy teacher.

It was the night before his last O.W.L. testing, and he just couldn't sleep. Bones, or rather Leonard McCoy, Jim's best friend and fellow Gryffindor, had warned him that the last day was supposed to be the worst, but so far Jim found the tests boring. While he wouldn't get perfect scores on any of them, he'd be surprised to see below an Exceeds Expectation. All he had left were Charms and History of Magic. He could do them in his sleep.

"Excuse me, but the Astronomy Tower is off limits." Jim spun around, robes catching around his ankles and sending him falling against the railing of the tower. He glared at the person who spoke.

"Careful," Jim hissed. "You could've killed me." He didn't recognize the student standing in front of him, but he could tell he was a Ravenclaw by the color of his embroidery. The man was taller than Jim by about four inches but managed to look down his nose at Jim. His dark eyes and darker hair were lost in the black of night, and though he knew they weren't, his ears look pointed. "And who are you, anyway?"

"Spock," the man said, crossing his arms and looking blankly at Jim. The fifth year fought the urge to fidget under the intense gaze.

"As in the son of the French ambassador?" Jim's own mother was Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation in the Ministry. Thought he didn't see her often – she travelled frequently for her job – he did remember her mentioning the new French ambassador.

"That is correct," Spock looked distinctly uncomfortable, but that didn't bother Jim. Instead, Jim leaned out against the balcony and out towards the lake. With the moon reflecting off he could see a faint ripple.

"So what're you doing out here if it's off limits?"

"I find the view relaxing," the other man said, walking over and standing beside Jim. "I do not believe you've told me your name."

"Nope," Jim glanced over, grinning. "If I tell you that, you'll have to report me." From the uncomfortable expression that passed over Spock's face, Jim knew he was right.

"It is my duty as Head Boy to…"

"Blah, blah, blah," Jim made a face at Spock's rehearsed ramble. He grinned at Spock's look of shock and shouldered the taller boy. "You need to lighten up, Spock. Live a little."

"I am obviously living," Spock said, tense. Jim stood up, smile still in place as he looked at Spock.

"That's not what I mean," Jim said, clapping a hand on Spock's shoulder. Something in Spock's eye made him pause, hand falling slowly back down to his side. He could feel the tension in the air that hadn't existed a moment before, making the small distance between them seem like a chasm. Suddenly he felt warm lips on his, the sensation unlike anything he'd felt before. He lifted his hands to bunch in the black fabric of Spock's clothes, and felt fire where Spock's hand settled one on his hip and the other cupping his face. It was only when he couldn't breathe that they separated. He pressed his forehead to Spock's, their breath mingling in sharp, short gasps.

"Yeah," Jim said when he got his heart under control. "That's what I'm talking about."


	55. Waiting

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Spock (implied Spock/Jim)  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 318  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lv. Waiting. Until he came back, they would wait._

* * *

><p><strong>Waiting<strong>

Despite the decades that had passed, the field outside Starfleet's Riverside base had remained untouched. It could have been a portrait – the industrial shipyard set against a watercolor sky that bled into black and green and grey abyss that stretched for miles. There was something terribly sad about it. There were no footsteps on the ground, any that had been were long erased by wind and rain. No one visited the lonely ground, no one walked on her surface, no one spoke words to ease the pain of years.

The days blended together, beginning and ending with the paint running and spilling colors on the dark ground. It might have been a hundred years, or maybe just a few days since the angry boy on the motorbike had broken the monotony. This figure had no anger, he had no motorbike to rip up the dirt. His footsteps were light, leaving a very light indent that would be washed away by the wind that was fighting to loosen his careful control.

He stood there for years, minutes, hours, seconds. He did not speak, but simply stood there and let the elements wash over him. His face was wrinkled, deep ruts that matched the scars of the earth beneath his feet. Once he had been young. Once he had loved the boy on the motorbike. Once everything in his life had been beautiful.

Now he was like the field. He was eternally waiting for something. He knew what he was waiting for, just as the field was sure what it wanted. They both needed something that was out of reach. The boy with anger in his heart and a challenge in his eyes was lost. He went into space, leaving the land that raised him and the man who'd loved him. He hadn't died, but no one knew if he was alive. Until he came back, they would wait.


	56. Danger Ahead

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Bones  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 229  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lvi. Danger Ahead. You wouldn't recognize danger if there was a sign warning you._

* * *

><p><strong>Danger Ahead<strong>

"Dammit Jim. Slow down or you'll break your neck!" Jim turned to grin cheekily at the man behind him. It was a brisk day but both had already shed their jackets in favor of the lighter t-shirts worn underneath. Jim, for his part, was full of energy. He ran ahead, leaping on rocks beside the path as he went and turning around only when Bones called to him.

"I'm fine, Bones," Jim shouted, laughing and throwing his arms in the air. "I've been captain of the flagship of Starfleet for five years. I think I can handle hiking up to see a waterfall without running into danger."

"You wouldn't recognize danger if there was a sign warning you," Bones grumbled, skirting a fallen log that Jim had leapt over a few minutes previous. "And how do you have so much damn energy? It's barely past seven in the morning."

"We get an entire month to ourselves," Jim had jogged back to Bones, falling into step with the physician. "That's four weeks without Starfleet sending us past the edge of the known galaxy. Four weeks without Chapel or Spock to walk in on us. How are you not excited?"

"Well, when you put it like that…" Bones chuckled, reaching beside him and capturing Jim's hand. Whatever danger lay ahead, it could wait.


	57. Sacrifice

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **onesided Spock/Nyota, Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 622  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lvii. Sacrifice. He slowly began to sacrifice everything that made him Vulcan._

* * *

><p><strong>Sacrifice<strong>

Spock sat in what anyone else would think of as an uncomfortable position, legs half crossed and under his body, spine perfectly straight, hands folded in the traditional manner. It was getting increasingly difficult for him to meditate, something that was beginning to show in the bags under his eyes and the slight hesitation in his speech. His eyes were closed, lids flickering gently. He regulated his breathing, slowing his heart rate down and attempting to clear his mind.

As recently as three months previous he had been able to slip into the meditation state almost instantly. Now, it took him close to an hour and even then it was just a surface calm. Underneath, his emotions were uncontrollable. And he knew exactly what was causing it. Or rather, exactly who was causing it.

He cared deeply for Nyota Uhura. He did not know if he loved her, but he enjoyed her conversation. At first, he had thought that was the extent of their relationship. And then she kissed him. He'd never seen his parents kiss the human way, but he had been on Earth long enough to understand the ramifications. But he'd enjoyed her company too much to correct her.

The worse was that all it would take was a word from him and she would stop. While his feelings were uncertain, she made no secret of her love. Instead, he slowly began to sacrifice everything that made him Vulcan. As she spent more time with him, she began touching him more often. They were casual, almost absentminded ones, but they sent a shock through him that was almost physically painful. During the _Narada_ mission, she'd kissed him in the elevator, and since then she'd done it several more times in public. Recently, she'd begun talking about sharing quarters.

And so he was trying to meditate, hoping that it would give him the clarity to see what he needed to do in order to reclaim some of what she'd stolen, however honorable her intentions. He was an hour in to his attempt when he heard a knock at his door. Rising fluidly, he opened the door to reveal not Nyota, but Jim.

"Can I come in, Spock?" He stood to the side, letting the Captain in. Jim brushed against him as he passed. The contact was surprisingly strong, even though there was no skin on skin contact, but it wasn't painful. It was almost soothing.

"Is something wrong, Captain?" Spock closed the door, turning to see Jim pacing back and forth. The human was clearly agitated.

"Just need to escape for a while," Jim admitted, smiling sheepishly. "Admiral Pike's been bugging me about getting in my report on the latest meetings but my brain is fried – figuratively. Mind if I hide out here? No one'll think to look for me with you."

"I was just going to meditate," Spock said. He saw Jim's face fell and added, "But so long as you are relatively quiet, you would not be a distraction."

"Thanks, Spock," Jim said, settling on the bed. He stretched out on his side, facing Spock and propping his head up on his hand. "I owe you one."

Spock nodded, resuming his position. He'd abandoned any hope of meditating successfully, especially with Jim in the room. He could feel Jim's emotions radiating from the human. They should have been even more distracting than thoughts of Nyota. Instead, he slipped easily into a light meditation state almost instantly. From there he managed to go deeper, achieving full mediation in minutes. When he pulled out, Jim was gone but in his place was a sense that perhaps everything could go back to normal.


	58. Kick in the Head

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, SPock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 620  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lviii. Kick in the Head. It felt like he'd been kicked repeatedly in the head by something with metal shoes._

* * *

><p><strong>Kick in the Head<strong>

"Is there something wrong with my ship, Spock?" Jim Kirk asked when the landing party beamed back up to the ship. The Vulcan looked over at his the younger man, observing him silently for a moment. He appeared tired, but otherwise in good health. His eyes, a bright blue that never ceased to fascinate Spock with the emotion they seemed to constantly be brimming over with, were blinking rapidly. His mouth was drawn tight, for once missing that contagious smile that seemed to be transferred to everyone who saw it. "What's the buzzing sound?"

"I'm sorry, Captain, but I do not believe the ship is emitting any unusual sound." Spock eyed the other man with worry. It was odd that the Captain was hearing things; certainly something more than simple stress from the mission at hand.

"Must just be the damn headache." Kirk massaged the side of his head gently, wincing. It was the eighth day of negotiations and both sides were getting anxious. If the Trians signed the treaty it would be the new Captain's first which meant he would be trusted with other serious mission. But so far, he had returned at the end of each day with a headache, increasing in intensity though he had insisted it was nothing. It felt like he'd been kicked repeatedly in the head by something with metal shoes.

"Would you like me to accompany you to Sickbay?" Spock asked; concern almost showing in his tone. Despite his initial reaction, he had a growing respect for the young man.

"It's just a headache, Spock." Kirk said. "I don't need to give Bones another reason to stick a hypo in me." He turned down the hallway where his room was and realized Spock was still following him. With a sigh, he turned around and glared at his First Officer. "Do you need something, Mr. Spock?"

"It's my duty to ensure the Captain is well," He stopped at the Captain's quarters and stood, hands locked behind his back. Jim glanced at him side long, wishing his head wasn't pounding quite so much so he could admire the Vulcan's lean body. Instead, he had to fight to keep his eyes open in the bright light of the hallway.

"Have any of my actions indicated I am incapacitated?" Jim was tired, but his tone indicated he was trying to be patient with his First Officer.

"I suppose not." Spock admitted reluctantly.

"Then I'm going to sleep until my shift starts." He keyed in his code and the door whooshed open. "Go sleep or meditate or whatever it is you do between shifts."

"Very well, Captain."He said in a tone that did not sound like he was willing to drop the point. Before anything else could be said, the door slid shut between them and Jim let himself collapse onto his bed. Just lying there he started to feel better, though he wished there was someone else with him. He would never be comfortable sleeping in the empty Captain's quarters. If he thought he could get away without a hypo, he would have commed Bones. He knew the doctor wasn't on duty at the moment, and while their relationship was platonic since they'd been assigned on the Enterprise, Bones' presence would have been welcome, even if only as an extra body. Instead, he reduced the lights to 10% and closed his eyes, willing the pain away. At some point he must have drifted off because he woke two hours before Alpha Shift, feeling disoriented but without any pain. With any luck, the negotiations would end that day and they could finally move on.


	59. No Way Out

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Mentions of Child Abuse  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Frank,  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 766  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lix. No Way Out. He could never leave._

* * *

><p><strong>No Way Out<strong>

Jim's eyes scanned the crowd, searching for that flash of Starfleet blue that would indicate his mother had arrived. His name was called and he hesitated as long as possible, scanning the auditorium one last time as he walked up to the front and onto the stage. At the last possible minute, he tore his eyes away from the disappointing scene and toward the principal who was giving him a disapproving glare.

"I don't know how you managed to skate by for four years, but congratulations Kirk," Principal Trabing said, clasping his hand in hers and giving him a genuine smile. He thanked her, eyes automatically looking out at the stands once again. Still nothing.

Winona Kirk didn't show, despite her reassurances for the past month that she wouldn't forget. It shouldn't have surprised Jim – she'd been disappointing him since he was five years old graduating from Kindergarten; why should High School graduation be any different? And yet, it was. He didn't miss her, though. But when everyone else ran to their families after the ceremony was over, Jim just watched from the corner as his classmates were congratulated and given presents.

"Hey Jim!" Jim glanced up in time to see a blonde mass of hair hurl herself at him. He recognized Brittany Burke. She was talking a mile a minute as she clung to him, finally pulling away and giving him a chance to catch her stream of words. "…so excited. When do you leave?"

"Leave?" He asked. He honestly hadn't thought about it. Despite being born in space, he'd lived in Riverside for his entire life. He hadn't considered much past graduating High School. He'd heard people talking, of course. Several people were even heading to San Francisco to join Starfleet. "I wasn't planning on it."

"Really? I always thought you'd join Starfleet. With you parents being…you know," Brittany said. She felt Jim tense and apologized.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Starfleet's not for me. Too many rules." He flashed her a smile and saw her relax again.

"Well, my parents are waiting. Keep in touch, okay?" He promised he would and she left after another hug.

Before anyone else could get to him, he made his way out to the parking lot and to his motorcycle. He hopped on, speeding through the other vehicles and gaining many angry gestures. He ignored them, pushing his bike to the edge of its limits and further as if he could escape Riverside by sheer speed alone. All too quickly, he pulled up at the familiar farmhouse.

"That you, Jim?" He heard an all too familiar voice call out as soon as he opened the door. "Where the 'ell have you been?"

"I told you I had to go to graduation," Jim said, setting his helmet down on the table inside the door and slipping his boots off.

"Don't talk to me like that, you ungrateful little brat." Jim walked around the corner to see his stepfather sitting on the couch, a bottle of beer on one hand and dozens of bottles strewn on the floor around him. Jim sighed, picking up the trash can and dragging it behind him. He threw trash in as he went. "You're damn lucky I haven't kicked you out before now."

Jim ignored him, thoughts still racing. He wished he could get on his bike and take any road out of Riverside and never come back. Even as he thought it he felt a twinge of guilt. The man sitting on the couch, although slouched would be a better word, had raised him when his mother was off planet. Frank may not have been the easiest to get along with – he never hesitated to use physical punishment, and the emotional punishment was nearly constant – but it was the closest to a father Jim had ever had. After Sam had left, Jim was the only family Frank had.

"Get me something stronger if I have to listen to you lurking around all day," Frank threw the empty bottle at him, but Jim ducked and it shattered against the wall. Jim sighed, swinging through the kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whisky and giving it to Frank before grabbing a broom to clean the mess. As much as he wanted to leave, there was no way he could abandon Frank. For a boy who was born in the stars, he grew up to a man with no way to escape a small town.


	60. Rejection

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Mild sexual situation  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Spock/Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 656  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lx. Rejection. Rejection wasn't something Jim Kirk was familiar with..._

* * *

><p><strong>Rejection<strong>

Rejection wasn't something Jim Kirk was familiar with. He'd experienced it, of course, but he certainly didn't have an intimate knowledge of being turned down by someone he genuinely cared about. That probably had something to do with the fact that he didn't genuinely care about many of the people he hit on.

So that feeling he experienced walking down the halls was something he wished he'd never felt. He felt like he'd been kicked in the gut and trampled. It was worse than waking up after being nerve pinched by Spock. It might have been kinder if Spock had just knocked him out instead of going on and on about Jim's 'promiscuous habits.'

He kept his eyes forward on the walk, ignoring the glances his crew gave him. There was no chance they knew, since he'd just left Spock's lab and he knew the Vulcan wasn't prone to gossip. That didn't make the walk any less humiliating. When he made it back to his room, he fell on his bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering what he could have done differently. He wasn't the best with words, but he thought he'd made it clear to Spock that he didn't want to see anyone else. In fact, for the entire year they'd been in space he hadn't slept with anyone else. Unless Spock thought his passes at Uhura were serious…He was considering going back to clear up that point with Spock when he heard a knock on his door.

"Come in," he shouted, thinking it would be Bones. The physician usually stopped by Jim's quarters once a day to make sure he ate something besides sweets, though it was a little early. He certainly didn't think it would be Spock.

"Is this a bad time?" Spock asked, stepping inside the door just far enough to allow it to close behind him.

"Think of another reason why I'm not good enough for you, Commander?" Jim asked, annoyed that he was so bitter. He didn't want Spock to agree to date him out of pity.

"On the contrary, Captain," Spock said. "I did not refuse your invitation due to any inferiority on your part." Jim sat up, examining Spock closely. The Vulcan didn't appear to be lying, something Vulcan's seldom did, though Jim had noticed several cases where Spock stretched the truth. Usually to get Jim not to do something stupid.

"Are you saying that you think _you're_ not good enough for _me?" _The idea was even more ridiculous when Jim said it out loud.

"Affirmative," Spock said. "You are a hero. You managed to save an entire planet, despite my sincerest efforts to adhere to regulations. I am…I am neither human nor Vulcan. To think I could deserve you would be illogical." Jim fought back his laughter at that. He'd been so worried, and for nothing.

Not wanting to upset Spock, he stood up and walked slowly toward the Vulcan. His eyes never left Spock's, and he saw the questions lurking. When they were so close they were almost touching, Jim stopped. "If that's what you think of yourself, I guess I'll have to work extra hard to make you see how wrong you are."

Jim didn't kiss him then, despite the almost physical pain it took to restrain himself. Instead, he reached a hand out, palm up. His middle and index finger extended. Spock's hand met his softly, their skin barely making contact. When Jim first heard about Vulcan kissing, he thought it was stupid. How could anyone get off on touching fingers? And yet, in reality, it was so much more than any human kiss he'd had. He could almost feel an electric current shooting through his body, warmth pooling in his lower abdomen. It was Spock who, keeping contact on their hands brought their lips together. And just like that, the pain of rejection melted away into a bliss he hadn't thought possible.


	61. Beautiful

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Leonard/Nyota  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 209  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxi. Beautiful. Leonard McCoy was no beauty._

* * *

><p><strong>Beautiful<strong>

"You're beautiful." Leonard McCoy paused, looking up at the doorway to the person who'd just spoken. He knew his hair was a mess, what sleep he'd caught was bent over PADDs on his desk, and he hadn't shaved in who-the-hell-knows how many days. He pulled his glasses off, wincing at the release of pressure on the bridge of his nose that he knew left bright red indents. Next to the red of his sleep-deprived eyes it probably wasn't noticeable, though.

Even on a good day, Leonard wasn't what anyone would consider beautiful. He was built on the stocky side, giving him an appearance of being short even though he was average height. His eyes were a muddy brown-green that were hidden under huge eyebrows. No, Leonard McCoy was no beauty. And yet, the woman standing before him clearly was.

The Starfleet uniform accented her natural curves, and the skirt made her legs look like they never ended. Her skin was rich chocolate, and her eyes were almost black. Her hair was pulled back in a high pony tail, falling in a straight line down her back and moving from side to side as she approached him. Leaning her weight on the desk, she kissed him gently. "Beautiful."


	62. Magic

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>m/m very vague lime/lemon  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Kirk/Spock(orBonesorSuluorChekovorScotty)  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 100  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxii. Magic. They were like magic..._

**A/N: **I'm sorry I was gone for a few days...a lot of times. I've got three more days of class and then I'm done for the summer. So /hopefully/ that means I can update regularly again._  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Magic<strong>

Kirk's back arched, a low moan escaping his lips as liquid warmth travelled through his body to settle in his gut. He threw his head back, pressing himself forward into the contact. All coherent thought had long since been erased from his brain and all he could do was pray it never stopped. His lips were captured in a rough kiss, all tongues and teeth and lips and _god-never-let-it-stop. _And those hands were burning his skin, his shoulder, his biceps, trailing across the small of his pack around. They were like magic, building him up only to tear him down.


	63. Do not Disturb

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Kind of implied...  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Spock, Uhura  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 346  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxiii. Do not Disturb. Jim just stared at the sign pinned to Spock's door._

* * *

><p><strong>Do Not Disturb<strong>

Jim stood outside the door, looking at the sign pinned up and wishing if he stared long enough they would morph into something else. The words – "Do Not Disturb" – conjured up images that hurt Jim more than he thought possible. It had only been a week since their break up, and for his part, Jim wasn't anywhere near over the pain. And he was the one who'd done the breaking.

So he shouldn't be standing outside his ex-boyfriend's bedroom imagining who was in the room with him, and why that sign needed to be up. He ran through the ship's roster, trying to figure out who Spock would have gone running to. He always ended up in the same place –Uhura. The pain of her betrayal struck him just as deeply as Spock's. They'd finally gotten on good terms, bonding over their shared heartbreak at the hand of the half Vulcan. Uhura had fooled him with all her talk of falling in love with someone else, and being happy with them. And all along, that other person had been Spock.

Instead of barging in like he wanted to do, he turned away. The PADD in his hands hung limp, the report he'd been intending to show to Spock was all but forgotten. He tried not to dwell on Spock and Uhura, but found he couldn't. He was still picturing them together when he ran into someone as he turned the corner. The person fell back, but he steadied them instinctively.

"Oh, Captain," Uhura laughed. "I was just coming to tell you – Spock said he was going to meditate and probably wouldn't be available for a few hours." Jim was so glad to see her he wanted to kiss her. Judging on past attempts, that wouldn't go over well.

"Yeah," He said. "I saw." He mentally kicked himself for overreacting but didn't spend much time wondering why the thought of Spock with someone else was so painful. There was no way he was still in love with Spock.


	64. Multitask

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Pike, Jim, implied Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 100  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxiv. Multitasking. Next time, don't try to multitask.  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Multitasking<strong>

"Jim, what were you doing when you wrote that report for Starfleet?" Pike didn't waste any time when he finally got Jim to answer the communicator. From the look on his face, something was wrong and Jim made a mental list of what he could have done.

"Nothing, sir," He answered automatically. "We'd just beamed back up. Spock took Cadet Gleason to see Bones and…" All color drained from his face. "Oh yeah."

"Next time, don't try to multitask," Pike managed to keep a straight face. "I don't need to picture you and Spock doing anything but heading the flagship."


	65. Horror

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Spock, Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 224  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxv. Horror. At any moment, that monster would break free and consume him._

* * *

><p><strong>Horror<strong>

Spock was always in control of his emotional and physical reaction. He had cultivated discipline as a child, made even more necessary by the constant goading of his year mates. It took conscious effort when he was young not to let himself show his emotions. As he grew older, the emotions dulled until he didn't feel anything anymore.

And then, in one sitting, this Cadet James Kirk managed to unleash all of those emotions of pain and hurt and anger and sorrow and bitterness and remorse. Everything Spock had locked inside him over the past thirty years came pouring out in one violent episode.

His hands were still shaking as he made his way back to his quarters. He ignored the glances of the crew members, but the knowledge of their eyes following him, witnessing his weakness, fueled his roiling emotions. He fought against them, trying to shove them back into the box he'd carefully constructed for so many years.

When he got back to his room, he went straight to the bathroom. He forced himself to meet his eyes in the mirror. The raw emotion he saw behind his eyes terrified him. He was looking into the face of a monster that he didn't know. At any moment, that monster would break free again and consume him. All because of one insignificant human.


	66. Traps

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Spock, Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 141  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxvi. Traps. It was a minefield._

**A/N: **So...I bet you thought I forgot about you guys, huh? I (obviously) won't be posting enough to catch up, but I'm going to start doing one a day again. And for those who read 'Across the Hall,' expect an update for that, though I may end up changing what I've already got a bit.

* * *

><p><strong>Traps<strong>

It was a minefield. That was the only comparison Jim could conjure to adequately explain his attempts at striking up a relationship with Spock. He could see what waited on the other side – had seen it in Spock Prime's memory and then been haunted by it every night since – but every step forward sent him retreating ten back. He was frustrated, because no matter what he said or did, it was the wrong thing. There was always the option to give up, to just let the damn Vulcan off the hook and forget about anything other than a working relationship, but that hadn't been an option from the moment he first melded with Spock Prime. So he was stuck, trying to navigate the pitfalls and traps that he knew would be worth it in the end. If he survived, of course.


	67. Playing the Melody

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Spock/Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 356  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxvii. Playing the Melody. Jim recognized the emerging melody as the one Spock had written just for him._

* * *

><p><strong>Playing the Melody<strong>

"I do not think I am ready for this," The words were spoken softly, but the blonde man heard them even through the sound of the stage crew busy setting up around them. He closed to distance between himself and the black haired man, reaching a hand to cup the other man's angular jawline. He reached up slightly, pressing his lips to his partner's softly. "Jim…"

"The doctor said you're fine," He said. "You haven't had a tremor in weeks. You'll be fine, Spock." Jim let his hand fall from Spock's face, resting on his shoulder, running his thumb over the faint scar that could barely be felt through the light fabric of his shirt. Spock lifted his hand up, flexing the fingers and gazing at them intently.

"Will you love me if I can't do this?" Spock's voice was almost nonchalant, but Jim heard the slight quiver. "If I can never play again? Will you still love me?"

"You _can_ do this," Jim said, running his hand down the arm to grasp the offending hand in his, holding it softly. "And I will always love you." They were interrupted by an older man, hair just going grey.

"It's time, Mr. Spock," He said.

"Thank you, Christopher." Spock took his hand back, lip almost curling into a smile.

"I'll meet you back here after, okay?" Jim kissed him once more before disappearing down a flight of stairs. Spock took a deep breath, willing himself to relax, and went to take his position.

The concert hall was absolutely silent, no sound to be heard except the gentle rise and fall of the piano as the man seated there sent his hands on a frantic dance across the keys. The man sat, straight backed and elegant even as the tempo increased. If he felt any strain, it didn't show on his face. In the first row, Jim smiled, recognizing the emerging melody as the one Spock had written him for their first anniversary. For the first time since Spock's accident eight months ago, he played it flawlessly.


	68. Hero

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Spock, Leonard  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 365  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxviii. Hero. So they just stood there, holding up the hero who had saved the world so many times but who was now unable to save himself._

* * *

><p><strong>Hero<strong>

"…And so I am sad to say that I will not be re-enlisting in Starfleet." The crowd of reporters surged forward, all shouting in the vain hope that their question would be heard and answered. The man standing on the podium pretended not to notice, lifting his left hand and waving before turning and stepping down. As he walked away, he heard someone thank everyone for coming. He was numbly aware of the two men who flanked him on this last walk as the youngest Captain in Starfleet. Youngest to come, and youngest to go.

He stood tall, the spitting image of his father. With blonde hair and blue eyes coupled with a fierce belief that every problem has a solution, it was no wonder he had been described as a heartbreaker. In his short career he'd become a household name, bringing Starfleet's recruitment up by a staggering 20% just so they could meet this star-forged hero.

The man on his left matched his height exactly. He was darker, with thick eyebrows drawn tight over olive eyes as he regarded his Captain from behind. His lips were drawn tight, and his whole body seemed tense, ready to spring to action at a moment's notice. From the faint wrinkles on his brow it was clear he was older, though still very much in his prime.

The third was clearly Vulcan, with a face as recognizable as the Captain he followed. His hair was cut in traditional Vulcan fashion, and his pointed ears further singled him out as alien. He stood a head taller than his companions. No expression showed on his face, though his eyes continually came to a rest on the blonde's back.

Together they retreated away from the media, the two in the back serving as a warning to anyone who thought about intercepting them. Once inside a private room, all energy left the Captain and he leaned heavily against his silent guardians. They said nothing; all conversations had been had long ago and words could change nothing now. So they just stood there, holding up the hero who had saved the world so many times but who was now unable to save himself.


	69. Annoyance

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 357  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxix. Annoyance. No one can do annoying like James Kirk._

* * *

><p><strong>Annoyance<strong>

Jim glanced over at the exchange student sitting beside him. The teacher had left them in the room, alone. The opportunity was too good for Jim to pass up. All day, Jim had been trying to get the attention of the Vulcan exchange student, but he hadn't had any luck. It was frustrating for someone who was always the center of attention.

"Pst," He hissed at the boy, not even earning a flinch. He tried again, crumpling up a small sheet of paper he tore from his notebook and throwing it on the desk in front of the boy. Nothing. This time, the paper hit the boy on the shoulder. Still nothing. Jim huffed, leaning back in his seat violently. The chair toppled back, sending him sprawling. When he recovered, he glanced over to find the boy was still reading something on his PADD.

"Don't even want to see if I'm alright?" This earned him a glance and a raise of an eyebrow, but nothing else. Fine, Jim didn't care. He didn't want to talk to the Vulcan anyhow. He picked up his PADD, opening a magazine and trying to care about the latest celebrity gossip. Absently, he tapped a pencil on the desk in the rhythm of the song stuck in his head. He wasn't even aware that the other boy had even moved when the pencil was ripped from his hand and tossed across the room.

"What the – " His question was cut off when he caught the horrified expression on the Vulcan's face.

"I am sorry for my reaction. Apparently, your tapping was an annoyance." "You could have just said something, you know," He said. "I'm Jim. Jim Kirk." When the Vulcan returned to his seat without saying anything, Jim sighed dramatically. "It's polite to introduce yourself now, especially since you nearly ripped my hand off."

"Spock." The boy said. And that was it. Jim was hooked. Nothing else Jim said could elicit a response, but he was determined to do anything to hear that voice again.


	70. 67

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Bones, Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 203  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxx. 67%. One in three._

* * *

><p><strong>67%<strong>

"Thirty-three, Jim! Thirty-three! That's only a third of the population! How the hell are you the one in three?" Bones continued his rant as he dug through a drawer of hypo's, tossing most of them aside until he found one that he wanted. He ripped the hypo seal open and hit it against Jim's neck.

"I'm fine. Temporary side effect," Jim protested. Or that was what he intended to say. His face felt kind of numb, and his hearing seemed to be a little clogged, though he had no problem hearing Bones' rant.

"How'd you even get in to Starfleet with all your allergies?" Jim considered answering, but Bones was already off on another train of thought and Jim's face was completely numb at this point.

Half a dozen hypo's later, one of them seeming to be a heavy sedative that had Jim knocked out for half the day, and Jim could finally feel his face again. Bones was still scowling, something that Jim had come to expect in the eight years they'd known each other. "Whatever you did, Bones, I feel great. Gotta get back to my chair. Wouldn't want Spock getting too comfortable."


	71. Obsession

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Pike  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 318  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxi. Obsession. Jim Kirk's fascination with space had never been healthy._

* * *

><p><strong>Obsession<strong>

Jim Kirk's fascination with space had never been healthy. By the time he turned ten, he knew the names of all the constellations. By twelve, he knew every known species and planet and colony. At sixteen, he could speak a handful of alien languages fluently, and knew important phrases in others. By twenty, he was able to recite the history of the major species in the galaxy.

So when Pike cornered him in that bar, it wasn't the first time he considered joining Starfleet. He'd watched the shuttle launches holding the new Cadets for as long as he could remember, sneaking out of his uncle's house and borrowing a car to get down to the abandoned lot beside the shipyard. He would press his face up against the fence, waving to the security officers who never considered the scrawny local kid to be a threat, and admire the red uniforms worn by the Cadets.

Something changed as the child grew up. His obsession with space grew, but so did his mistrust and dislike of Starfleet. The Cadets seemed less polished – more crass. He realized that maybe Starfleet wasn't the glamorous life the holo's tried to tell him it was. He began to notice how often people were killed on duty, and wondered how anyone could be okay with that.

By the time Pike approached, he'd considered joining Starfleet, but only because he couldn't see any other option in his life. Something about Pike's passion, though, rekindled that passion in Jim. He was destined for Command, even if he'd joined without Pike's encouragement as he would have eventually, but it would have been half hearted – how could he devote himself to something he considered only slightly better than ending up in jail? Instead, that little boy's fascination with space, the young man's love of all things alien, the man's obsession, became the Fleet's youngest – and unarguably the best – captain.


	72. Mischief Managed

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Nyota, Scotty  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 335  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxii. Mischief Managed. He made her feel like a little kid again._

**A/N: **Something a little different here - Nyota/Scotty at Academy. Since he's already gone (or Jim never met him) when Bones and Jim are there, this takes place before he beams the beagle and gets sent away as punishment.

**A/N 2: Feel free to skip this one**. (: (Because the story is just ridiculously hilarious, most of you will think I'm making it up xD) So...I knew I had to go in to town this morning so I typed this up last night and even uploaded it so I could quickly put it up before I left. I didn't count on being woken at six in the morning when my mother came in my room screaming about the stallion getting in the pasture with the geldings (if you don't know horses - unless the stallion is used to being turned out with other horses, it's a _really_ bad idea for them to get together). That took four hours of stress and driving to the store to get nails and fixing fences and finally walking the mare along the outside to lure the stallion back down to his pasture. THEN, we went in to do our chores(it's now after 10 at this point) in town. But the only problem - my car overheated before we made it a mile. Thankfully we were right by our car fixer shop place, so we pulled in there, where the super nice guy told me it would be about $300 to fix the water pump, and it wouldn't be ready for about six hours. We got back home and got into the truck and started driving...when the car started rocking really badly and there was a horrible smell so we went back to the garage where they changed the tire (which had worn through the tread and was about 30 seconds from blowing out). So now it's about noon and we're finally set to go do our chores and, while driving in to town, the brakes go out. Like...press on the brake and pretty much nothing happens. We did manage to get in and out of town fine (just going really slowly and taking all back roads). Got home at about 4-ish, picked up my car, then did night chores for the horses. And that is why this is getting posted late. So...forgive me? 

**A/N 3: **I can't write in accent so...fair warning has been given. _  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Mischief Managed<strong>

She felt like a little kid again, sneaking through the halls after hours. At any moment a teacher could catch them and restrict her to the campus 24/7 for the next week. But somehow that didn't matter because the hand in hers was warm and pulling her down the hall at full speed and she was laughing despite the knowledge that it could draw attention.

"Where are we going?" She hissed, crashing in to the man in front of her when he came to an abrupt halt.

"I cannae tell ya," He said, grinning. "T'would give away the secret." Montgomery Scott's eyes flashed as he checked around the corner. When they set off again, it was at a much more subdued pace. They only went half way down the hall before he swiped a key card and led her in to a huge room.

"Are we allowed to be here?" She looked at all the devices in the room. She wouldn't have been allowed in that room even if she was in her last year at the academy like Scotty. Unlike him, she was a xenolinguistics major who had no business being near the advanced engineering department's main room.

"I'm testin' out a new equation, and if it works…"

"You're showing off, then?" Nyota asked, watching his fingers fly over the keyboard. "Do you take all first year students to forbidden room?"

"Just the ones I like," He said, glancing up for a moment and smiling at her. It only took him a few minutes to finish entering the code, the string of numbers and symbols going too quickly for her to attempt to make any sense of. She was so busy watching him that she didn't notice when he stopped until he spoke up. "Finished. So, where were we?"

"Hmmm," She pretended to think, turning her head to the side and pretending to resist when he pulled her close. "Right. Here." She punctuated each word with a gentle kiss, letting the last one deepen.


	73. I Can't

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock, McCoy  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 264  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxiii. I can't. Spock is injured on an away mission._

**A/N: **So I cheated and already have the expansion of this written. It'll be posted right after this is. Also, I posted the expansion for the 'Annoyance' chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>I can't<strong>

Jim lost consciousness quickly, for which I was glad. With his loss of consciousness, my pain vanished. I carried him, ignoring the broken ribs and dislocated shoulder. I knew what my injuries meant, even if I hadn't said it out loud. I knew Jim had understood as well, and so his unconsciousness was a welcome break.

Doctor McCoy's assessment did not reveal anything that I had not been able to determine myself. His scan identified a few more fractures, but those were so minor compared to the internal injuries that they were ultimately irrelevant. His scan did confirm what I'd expected – the internal bleeding was extensive. Almost every organ was torn, and it was a miracle I was conscious, let alone alive. What McCoy did not know was that the reason I was alive was due to my bond with the Captain. I doubted even Jim knew. In several cases, a bondmate was able to sustain their injured partner until medics could arrive and fix the injuries. Mine were too severe for that.

I didn't want to face Jim. I felt when he started struggling for consciousness and alerted Doctor McCoy who was digging through every PADD he had on Vulcan physiology even after I told him it was useless. He asked if I wanted to be the one to explain the situation to Jim. I wanted to. I wanted to tell Jim that everything would be okay, but that would be a lie. Instead, I just shook my head, wincing when the movement spread to my broken ribs. "I can't."


	74. Are You Challenging Me?

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim(, Pike, Bones)  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 239  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxiv. Are You Challenging Me?. Jim doesn't believe in no win scenarios._

* * *

><p><strong>Are You Challenging Me?<strong>

"No one can beat the Kobayashi Maru, Cadet Kirk." The words echoed in Jim's head for the rest of the day. No one? The test had been around since the Academy had opened. It had evolved over the years – the current program had been created by some recent graduate that no one could tell Jim the name of. The premise was the same, always. There was a ship stranded near an enemy – this time it was Klingon's – named the _Kobayashi Maru_, and the point of the test was for the captain to rescue the crew.

Pike's words were still in Jim's head the next morning when he arrived at the mock Bridge for his test. They taunted him as the reports were delivered – shields at 73, 56, 21. Finally, the screen went black and everyone went silent. Bones was the first to react. He stood up from his post at Navigation and clapped a hand on Jim's shoulder. "No one ever wins, kid."

No one. Those words again. He watched as everyone filed out, ignoring their glances. He sat there until someone came to pull him from the room, telling him it was time for the next candidate's try. His score would be posted later in the week. As he left the room, he took one last look back. He was James Tiberius Kirk. He didn't believe in no win situations. Challenge accepted.


	75. Mirror

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock (kind of?)  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 266  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxv. Mirror. No matter the universe, some people are destined to meet and love and lose._

**A/N: **Don't ask. xD

* * *

><p><strong>Mirror<strong>

We are the guardians, watching the mirrors. We see every path that is taken, was taken, will be taken. We watch and do not interfere, no matter the consequence. We see that no matter the universe, no matter the consequences, some people are destined to meet and love and lose.

The one with eyes the color of the sky is sometimes angry and sometimes happy, but always has something to prove. Sometimes he keeps his feet firmly planted on the ground until he dies; sometimes he flies off in to space. His family is fractured always, father dead, mother dead, brother dead, him dead. We cry when he dies young.

The one who is of two worlds yet accepted in neither is sometimes sad and sometimes wild, but always is searching for more. In some mirrors he stays on his birth planet for many years too long, but ultimately he must leave. He seeks in every mirror for what he thinks his impossible; someone to love him.

The two halves meet always. We have never seen their like before or again. In one mirror their union is born of mutual respect, in another it starts off as hatred. We are afraid that they will miss each other, but it has never happened. We think if it did, if the two souls did not meet, the mirror would fracture.

We are the guardians, and the mirrors must not fracture. We see the paths, but cannot touch them. We watch worlds unfold, unable to touch them. We see two boys meet, clash, and love. We watch the mirrors.


	76. Broken Pieces

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 219  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxvi. Broken Pieces. No words had to be spoken._

**A/N: **I'm kind of blown away by the response to the last chapter. It was honestly something I came up with randomly while trying to figure out how to write something in the mirror verse. I'm not making any promises, because I've got two other chapters (at least) to expand, but an expansion of that one may be in the future.

* * *

><p><strong>Broken Pieces<strong>

The universe must have been in full force for them to find each other with everything that had been going against them. They'd hated each other at first. It wasn't a one sided, short lived thing. The reasons weren't flimsy enough to be knocked down with a gentle breeze. It was the kind of dislike that grew over time, rubbing their nerves raw until they couldn't even stand to be in the same room as each other.

And yet here they were a year later, sitting alone in their shared quarters, Jim's head resting on Spock's chest listening to the strong steady beat of his heart. He clung to Spock, and the Vulcan clung to him with equal intensity. Spock's heartbeat was strong, even; everything the two men weren't.

No words had to be spoken; they'd all been said a million times over. For once, finally, they didn't have to wonder if the person they confided in understood, because though the cause was different, the pain was the same. One had been broken by the loss of a mother only two years ago, and the other's loss was a decade old, but they had both been shattered beyond repair. It shouldn't have been possible, but the two broken pieces found their other halves and could finally begin to heal.


	77. Test

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Paranoia  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim (Spock, McCoy)  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 283  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxvii. Test. One test after another..._

**A/N: **It's raining, it's pouring. The power keeps going out...Oh wait, that doesn't rhyme. xD_  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Test<strong>

Jim's entire life felt like it was just one test after another since he became the youngest Captain in Starfleet history. His life was under scrutiny every second of every day, even in the confines of his own room. Everyone was waiting for him to screw up, step one toe too far past the line so they could shove him all the way over and be done with him.

Most of it was in his head – it _had_ to be, right? – but that didn't make it any easier to ignore. He felt their eyes on him, the eyes of his crew that he should trust beyond all else, judging him when his feet dragged instead of bounced on his way down the hall. He didn't miss that McCoy arrived on the Bridge just a few minutes after his tongue slipped and he said something particularly outrageous. And when he fell into bed at night, too tired to even change out of his uniform, he could almost hear Spock reporting back to the Admirals about it before the Vulcan slid into bed beside him.

The worst part was, it was only a matter of time until he failed their tests. He'd always been a screw up and just because he got lucky and saved a few billion people didn't change that. But there was no way in hell he was going down without a fight. So he holds his head high, forcing enthusiasm in his actions and tone and ignoring the voices in his head that constantly tell him it just isn't good enough. Because while Jim Kirk may not test well, there's no way he ever gives up without a fight.


	78. Drink

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Mentions of alcoholism  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Leonard (mentions Jim/Spock and Leonard/Nyota)  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 1,052  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxviii. Drink. _2,979 days sober and counting_..._

**A/N: **I miss writing about Bones. And so this was born. And no, it's not Jim/Bones (unless you want it to be, I guess). And as I was writing this, I realized there's so few days left, which makes me unbelievably sad. I know I'm going to miss this. Although I'm sure I'll still be posting plenty in this fandom.

* * *

><p><strong>Drink<strong>

The bar looks like so many bar's Leonard had frequented back in Georgia. The air has a familiar haze of cigarette smoke that makes his eyes water and his throat burn. He let his eyes scan the shelves behind the bars, naming each and every bottle as he walks past. _Cognac.. Anejo…Belvedere Vodka…Jack Daniels…_The names are familiar on his lips, and he taps his fingers on his cadet uniform to keep them from reaching up and getting the bartender's attention.

He navigates the mass of bodies, excusing himself every time someone comes near. He takes care not to bump anyone, lest they spill their drink on him. The smell lingers for days on his clothes, and he isn't that strong. He pulls his eyes away from the bottles behind the bar and start scanning the men and women sitting on the stools. They alight on a familiar slouched figure, his hand wrapped around a bottle of steaming something. Leonard never was one for alien liquor. He liked his produced Earth side, thank you very much.

"Bones!" Jim stands up, sloshing his drink as he falls back against the bar. He rights himself, closing the gap between him and Leonard quickly. "You here to drink? Get a drink for Bones, here. His girlfriend hasn't left him. He deserves one!" Jim didn't wait for Leonard's answer, but when the bartender looks at him Leonard purses his lips and shakes his head.

"Let's get you out of here, kid," Leonard says, taking the half-full cup and setting it down on the bar with a handful of credits that should cover the amount of alcohol that it took to get Jim to the stage he's at. Leonard knows that's a lot - Jim's never been a lightweight when it comes to alcohol tolerance so he's been here for a few hours already if he's moved past the hitting-on-everything-in-a-skirt phase to uncoordinated-and-overly-friendly phase. Jim resists slightly, but is too off balance to pose a real threat.

"Y'er a spoilspot-spoilspirt-I don't like you very much." Jim's words are slurred almost beyond recognition, but Leonard's had too much practice with drunks to have any problem understanding his friend. Instead, he hooks an arm around Jim's waist, slinging Jim's arm around his shoulders and letting him put most of his weight on Leonard.

"I know," Leonard agrees, glad that leaving is easier than getting in – people part before them. He wonders if any of them recognize Jim – his face has been everywhere for the past five years. He gets Jim home without a problem, removing his socks and shoes before sliding in to bed beside him.

Leonard takes the small amount of sleep he can get before Jim stumbles out of bed, heading in the wrong direction. Leonard sighs, intercepting Jim and directing him towards the bathroom and helping him kneel over the toilet moments before Jim starts heaving. Leonard isn't sure how long he sits there, hand resting on Jim's back, rubbing circles to help with the cramping he knows comes from bending over a toilet for too long.

Finally the heaving stops and Jim sits back, accepting the cup of water from Leonard wordlessly. He rinses his mouth, spitting the liquid out. Leonard hands him another cup, this one full of mouthwash. Again, Jim takes it gratefully. A few moments pass in silence, Leonard leaning against the wall and Jim's head resting on his shoulder, before Jim speaks. "Why didn't you want to come drink with me?"

"I don't drink," Leonard says gruffly. He feels Jim shift, looking at him like he's crazy.

"At all?" Leonard shakes his head. "You'd drink if Nyota broke up with you…I love him so much. Why'd he do it?" If Leonard thought Jim would remember any of this in the morning he wouldn't be so forthcoming with his answers. But he knows how much alcohol Jim had to have to get to the stage he was, and there's no danger of any of these memories remaining.

"I know you do, kid. He loves you too. And you'll work through it. You always do." It was true. This was the third time Jim and Spock had broken up in the past five years. Each time they finally started to get comfortable together, one or the other would pull away, leaving them both heartbroken and impossible to be around until they got over their stubbornness. "But I wouldn't drink, even if Nyota broke up with me."

"You would," Jim assures, head nodding sagely. Leonard chuckles, looking at a point on the wall opposite before he speaks.

"I wouldn't," He says softly. "Because one drink would turn in to thirteen. And then I'd have to go the next night, and the next. Once I start, I can't stop. I've tried; telling myself I'd just get one beer to get over disappointment. But it's never one. And it's never once."

"I drank…Well, I don't know how many I drank." Jim's eyes cross briefly, as if he's deep in thought.

"Yeah, but do you wanna head back to the bar as soon as it opens today?"

"No. Headache." Jim says, sighing against Leonard.

"Wouldn't matter to me." Leonard decides he's tired of sitting on the floor. It's been ten minutes and Jim's stomach seems to have settled. He hooks an arm around Jim and hauls him to his feet, guiding them both back to the bedroom. "I'd be back first thing in the morning. Every morning. So that's why I don't drink. Why I won't drink."

" 'm glad." Jim says, resting his head on Leonard's chest, an arm draped haphazardously across his waist. "I love you, Bones."

"Yeah, yeah. I love you too, kid." And he decides it must be love, because otherwise there's no way he would have dared set foot in the bar. Because for the rest of the night, the urge to just get up and grab a bottle of that cheap beer Jim keeps in his fridge is so powerful it's almost painful. And each time Jim's breath reaches his nose he has to stifle a groan of desire. Of course, it could just be because he's a masochist, Leonard decides as he finally drifts off to sleep. A masochist who survived another night without a drink. _2,979 days sober and counting…_


	79. Starvation

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Tarsus IV  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Christopher Pike, Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 301  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxix. Starvation. _Even starving, the son of George Kirk can't give in_._

**A/N: **Posting this early because I'm heading out of town first thing in the morning.

* * *

><p><strong>Starvation<strong>

Whatever Christopher had been expecting to see when he beamed down to Tarsus IV, it certainly wasn't the sight that met his eyes. The people were literally skin and bones, most of them too weak to do anything but stare blankly ahead as the Starfleet personnel and volunteers moved among them. Chris hesitated. Where did anyone start in the mess of bodies before him? He was pushed forward roughly as the group he had beamed down with dispersed, the packs of hypo's heavy on their backs.

"I don't need your help!" He turned around, looking for the source of the harsh words. A young boy, looking about eight but probably closer to thirteen or fourteen, shoved a young Cadet away. Chris hurried forward, recognizing one of the more volatile tempered cadets from the _Farragut_.

"I got this," He said, placing a hand on Cadet Terry's arm. The man nodded, glaring back at the little boy harshly before saluting Chris and walking away.

"I don't need any of your hypo's," the boy insisted. "My kids do, though. Can you help them?"

"What's your name, son?" Chris asked. He didn't see any other children around, and now that he was alone with the boy, he was sure he was older than he first appeared. But still not old enough to be responsible for anyone other than himself. He's so thin Chris wonders how he's even standing, but unlike many of the other survivors, there's still fight left in his eyes.

"James Tiberius Kirk," He says, chin held up in defiance. He must still the flicker of recognition in Chris' eyes. It suddenly all makes sense to Chris with those three little words. Even left to die, starving and alone, the son of George Kirk can't give in.


	80. Words

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, (/)Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 372  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxx. Words. _Words had always been Jim Kirk's greatest weapon, but when he needed them the most, they failed him_._

**A/N: **Had a horrible day so I took it out on Jim and Spock...sorry. ;-; Barring any disasters today, tomorrow's update should be considerably lighter.

* * *

><p><strong>Words<strong>

Jim had been small as a kid. Not in a 'slightly-shorter-than-average' way, but in a 'are-you-sure-you're-really-in-this-grade' kind of way. He couldn't remember the number of times his teacher's pulled him aside his freshman year of high school asking if he needed special accommodations because he was so much younger than his class mates. Eventually he caught up – that growth spurt the summer before sophomore year was a life saver – but for most of his life he was too little to be a threat.

Even little he still had some weapons at his disposal. His words, for instance. He may not have been able to hold his own in a fight, but given the right distance between himself and his bullies and he could tear them to pieces with his words and be gone before they even registered what he'd said as in insult. Of course, his propensity for language also got him beaten up on more than a few occasions, but not before he got in a half dozen really good jabs at their appearance and/or intelligence.

But standing there in the hallway of his ship, he found himself at a loss of what to say. Words had never failed him before – they'd come to his rescue time and time again, enabling him to talk his way out of any situation regardless of how hopeless it may have appeared. He was given full credit for talking the Klingon's out of destroying several civilian ships a week and a half ago. Now, when he needed them the most, they flew from his head.

He found there was nothing for him to do but watch Spock's back, retreating down the hall. He wanted to call out, get Spock to turn around and listen, but nothing came out except a strangled sob. He wanted to say it was all just a mistake – there was no way he'd kissed that Orion girl last night, but the truth was stuck in his throat. When he needed to lie, words flowed, but now that he needed them to tell the truth, they abandoned him. Words had always been Jim Kirk's greatest weapon, but when he needed them the most, they failed him.


	81. Pen and Paper

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 234  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxxi. Pen and Paper. _I can't talk yet! I just want the damn pen and paper!__

**A/N: **(Because I've come to accept that I just can't respond to reviews to save my life...) Thank you all for the lovely reviews for the last chapter: **NayahReidWhumper xD, Oci, Doni, zeynel and MirrorFlower and DarkWind. **Plus a special thanks for everyone who put this on favorite/alert. Also, my day did get much better for those who asked.

* * *

><p><strong>Pen and Paper<strong>

Jim's hands reached out feeling blindly on the nightstand beside his bed. He avoided knocking over the glass of water, but he couldn't find what he was looking for. With a groan, he rolled over, careful not to jar the metal contraption surrounding his face. The nightstand was empty except for the clock, cup, lamp and book.

"Do you need something?" Spock must have heard Jim's movements because he appeared in the room, ghosting over to stand beside his bed, hands resting on Jim's lightly.

Jim frowned, just a slight twitch of the lips that ended in a moan of agony as it jarred his fragile jaw. He grabbed back his hands, gesturing wildly with both of them. Spock made no appearance of understanding, just watching. He lifted an eyebrow, making Jim throw his hands up in a huff.

"Would you like some soup?" Spock asked, deliberately ignoring the writing gestures Jim was making. "I have some on the oven. I will be right back." When Spock returned, Jim's arms were crossed over his chest. He turned his head to the side, ignoring Spock's offering.

"If you do not speak, I cannot know what to bring you." The soup was added to the other things on the nightstand, things Jim did not want. He tried again, using his left hand to mime writing on his right hand. Spock sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing his hands and refusing to let go when Jim tried to pull them back. "You must speak, t'hy'la. The doctor said there's no reason you can't."

Jim hesitated, opening and closing his mouth several times. "I can't talk yet! I just want the damn pen and paper!"


	82. Can You Hear Me?

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>None  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 461  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxxii. Can You Hear Me?. _Can you hear me, t'hy'la?__

**A/N: **Thank you all for the lovely reviews for the last chapter: **NayahReidWhumper xD, Doni and MirrorFlower and DarkWind. **Plus a special thanks for everyone who put this on favorite/alert.

**Updated: **Fixed a few things thanks to **zeynel's** review.

* * *

><p><strong>Can You Hear Me?<strong>

This was not the first time James had been injured, but he had never been unconscious for so long. Doctor McCoy attributed the fact that he wasn't dead to his 'thick head.' Had Jim been awake I would have asked for clarification, but from the doctor's tone I was fairly certain he meant it in a metaphorical sense.

I wanted nothing more than to abandon all logic and sit in sick bay with Jim and hold his hand to reassure myself that yes, he is still alive. When he's unconscious, there's a terrible _lack_ at the end of our bond where I'm used to his presence. Even from the Bridge, I'm continually feeling for any sign that the bond isn't broken. Logically I know it isn't – the same emptiness is present anytime Jim is comatose – but Jim once explained that death or injury of a loved one will induce reactions that have no foundation in logic.

_Can you hear me, t'hy'la?_ It's not words so much as pictures to communicate telepathically with a bondmate. As always, there is no response. That in itself is not surprising. Being from a non-telepathic species, Jim is not always able to project a response if we are too far away. Surprisingly, that has never been an issue when either of us is in danger.

The shift drags on. I attempt several more times to contact Jim, even though Doctor McCoy assured me I would be alerted at the first sign of change in Jim's condition. When the next shift enters, I file out after handing command over and take the well worn path to the sick bay.

Jim looks smaller in those beds, monitor beeping overhead, body draped with a white sheet up to his chin. That alone is another reminder of his state – Jim seems incapable of keeping the sheets on his body in bed. He is as constantly in motion asleep as he is awake. Perhaps that is why it disturbs me so greatly to see him like this.

_Can you hear me?_ I put my hand on his, taking pleasure in his decreased body temperature – when I'd last checked he felt as if he was on fire. While he was always warmer than me, the difference was too extreme. I took a seat beside him, never loosing that physical contact. _I'm here, t'hy'la._ I'm not sure how long I sat there, searching for any hint that he was about to wake up. It wasn't until I felt the tentative brush of his mind against mine that I realized his eyes were opening.

"I can…hear you." He said, his smile changing into a grimace of pain. "But I don't think I can feel my hand anymore."


	83. Heal

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>mentions of child abuse  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 450  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxxiii. Heal. _ Jim didn't have a death wish. Or maybe he did.__

**A/N: **Thank you all for the lovely reviews for the last chapter: **NayahReidWhumper xD, Doni, MirrorFlower and DarkWind, Banbi-V and zeynel. **I love you all.

* * *

><p><strong>Heal<strong>

Jim skidded up the stairs and around the hall corner, slamming into his bedroom door and throwing it open. He closed and locked it just a brief second before a much larger body collided with it. He fell back against the door, back sliding down it until he was sitting on the floor. For the moment, adrenaline was coursing through his veins but soon he knew he would start to feel the pain of his injuries.

When he caught his breath, he started cataloging his injuries. He started with his hands – nothing broken. His arms were likewise clean, save a bruise on his upper left arm that he knew would be in the shape of a hand. His shoulder felt dislocated, probably from when Frank had pulled him down the stairs the first time. He knew he had to take care of that before continuing his investigation.

Standing was painful, but the fact that he could indicated there were no broken bones in his legs. His right ankle did feel like it had been sprained, though. He grimaced, grabbing a discarded t-shirt and balling it up before sticking it in his mouth and biting down. It took slamming his shoulder six times against the wall before he felt his joint snap back in place. His screams were muffled by the shirt, but he couldn't hear Frank outside his door anymore anyway.

Aside from a gash running from his left ear to the hairline above his right eye, he was fine. The cut was deep and could probably use stitches but the sounds of Frank stumbling around could still be heard and despite what people may think, Jim didn't have a death wish. Or maybe he did.

Jim could have easily avoided Frank, but once again he'd seen the empty bottles and decided to pick a fight. Just like he had every few weeks since he'd returned from Tarsus IV. At the thought of that name, he unconsciously pressed the balled up shirt harder against his head, letting out a hiss of pain at the increased pressure. The physical wounds were comforting. He could catalog them, mark off the days until each one would be healed up. Most wouldn't even leave a scar.

It would be a decade before a cranky doctor looked back in his medical files and realized the pattern. It would take another six months after that for a half-Vulcan to convince him to get help for his destructive behavior. But for now, he was just a fourteen year old kid with a dirty shirt quickly becoming saturated with blood pressed to his head and an aching in his heart that he didn't think would ever heal.


	84. Out Cold

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>young!verse  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Spock, Bones, Sulu, Chekov, Scotty, Nyota  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 353  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxxiv. Out Cold. _Nothing good could happen when Jim looked that excited..__

**A/N: **And a huge thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter: **NayahReidWhumper xD, Doni, MirrorFlower and DarkWind, Banbi-V, zeynel and jessica499499. **You guys make me smile.

**A/N 2: **In other news, this is going up early because I'm taking my stallion in to be gelded today and it's an hour and a half drive both way so...But on the plus side, when I pick him up on Friday he's going to be a gelding! Yay!

* * *

><p><strong>Out Cold<strong>

Jim looked down at the figure lying on the couch, wondering if he'd ever seen the half-Vulcan sleep. Of course, sleep was kind of an understatement – even with Sulu and Chekov shrieking across the room about something-or-other on the internet, Spock hadn't even flinched. He was out cold. Jim glanced around, eyes settling on the Craft Center where the markers were lying scattered across the tables. He walked over and grabbed as many as he could hold in his seven year old hands.

"Pst. Bones," Jim looked to his best friend who was sitting at the Science Table, taking apart the anatomy doll the teacher had used for their lesson earlier that day. Leonard "Bones" McCoy glanced up, internally grumbling at the look he saw in Jim's eyes. Nothing good could happen when Jim looked that excited.

"Sulu! Chekov!" The Asian and Russian boys turned around, catching Jim's eyes and getting up from their computer when they recognized his expression.

"Scotty – wanna help?" The last boy glanced up from the clock he was currently taking apart and shook his head. A pretty African-American girl was sitting beside him, watching his movements with almost cat like captivation. She looked up at Jim and scowled before looking back down. Jim shrugged – Scotty never wanted to do anything fun.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Jim?" Bones asked, taking the offered blue marker from his friend. Jim handed green and red to Sulu and Chekov respectively, and kept yellow for himself.

"Of course," He said, uncapping his pen. "This'll be an improvement. Normally he looks like he's got a stick up his – "

"Fine. But you go first." Jim doesn't hesitated, taking his marker and drawing a mustache under Spock's nose. The rest join in – Bones perhaps a little less enthusiastically. When they finished, Spock was unrecognizable under the multitude of colors decorating his somber features. By the time he woke up, the markers were back at the Craft Center and Jim, Bones, Sulu and Chekov were noticeably busy somewhere else.


	85. Spiral

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>none  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Chekov, Sulu  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 1,128  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxxv. Spiral. _He felt like he was flying.__

**A/N: **Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: **Doni, MirrorFlower and DarkWind, jessica499499, Misfitable and yuuki Lucia. **

**A/N 2: **I know nothing about ice skating. I mean - I live in Florida. The closest ice rink is about three hours away. Plus, I've got terrible balance if I get too far away from the wall.

* * *

><p><strong>Spiral<strong>

"Do it again!" Pavel's smile deflated at the harsh tone of his coach. He'd finally perfected the quad axel, landing perfectly balanced instead of falling and skidding on the hard ice. "Your upper body was all over the place. You don't stand a chance if you can't keep control of your body."

The young Russian just nodded, gritting his teeth. He needed to do well at the next competition – his Olympic dreams were resting on him placing at least second. After he'd nailed the quad axel half a dozen more times with only a handful of falls tossed in, his coach grudgingly admitted it was time for him to get ready for school and released him until he went back for afternoon practice.

The rink was empty aside from Pavel. His parents rented the entire place six mornings a week so he could practice without fear of being observed. Unfortunately, they couldn't do the same things in the afternoons and he had to work around other's practicing. He didn't really mind – when his coach wasn't watching he'd stop to help the younger children. But it was in the mornings after his coach left that Pavel truly loved.

He counted to a hundred after he heard the door close before he put his headphones in and took off again. He took a few laps around the edge, figure eighting several times. He reached down and pressed play on his iPod, smiling at the song that came on. It was upbeat – a dance song that would test his skills. A smile curved his lips and he started. It was far from perfect – several times he missed a beat and had to struggle to catch up with the music. Once he skidded to his knee for half a second before recovering and jumping in to the next movement.

He ended with an arabesque spiral and set up for his quad axel. The spiral went perfectly – his right leg raised above his head, his upper body parallel to the floor. When he landed from the spin, nailing it and landing as if in competition, he let out a laugh that echoed through the huge building.

"That was amazing." Pavel fell silent at the words. No one should have been watching him, and certainly not a stranger. His hand reached to the pocket he kept his phone in, remembering he'd left it in the locker room that morning. "Your spiral at the end was perfect. Not many men can pull that one off."

"Thank you," Pavel said, his accent heavy. He was still breathing heavy from his recent exertion as he glided towards the man speaking. He thought the guy looked familiar, though he couldn't quite put a name to the clearly Asian features. "I did not know anyone was in here."

"Sorry about that," The man said. "I was just passing through town and thought I'd confront ghosts from the past." A look of pain passed over the man's face as his gaze slid across the ice. "Mind if I take a spin around?" Pavel didn't know what to say so he just moved aside for the stranger to slide out. He started out, his body clearly used to the movements. He started easy, warming up. When his pace increased Pavel recognized the routine he'd just improvised.

There was a combination of grace and power in the stranger's movements that amazed Pavel. His own style was decidedly more feminine and even though this stranger was only slightly bulkier than the Russian, his movement was completely different. Pavel found himself holding his breath when the man's feet left the ground for the axel at the end. One, Two, Three, Four spins and…His landing was perfect for a split second before his leg gave out on him and he landed in a heap on the ground.

"Are you alright?" Pavel rushed over and offered an arm to the man who was still collapsed. The man ignored his hand, holding his ankle and letting out strangled sobs. And then Pavel knew who he was looking at. "Hikaru Sulu?"

Three years previous a young Japanese man was poised to take the position as the number one male figure skater in the world when he'd landed wrong from a jump and shattered his ankle. Despite the best surgeons in the world operating, it was announced a few months later that he was retiring from skating for good. Pavel was only an amateur then, competing and winning all the local competitions. It was the year after that he'd started going professionally.

"Guess my secret's out," Sulu said, standing up and accepting Pavel's arm around his waist. "You're really very good, you know. How old are you?"

"Sewenteen," Pavel said, sitting and unlacing his skates. He didn't miss the appreciative whistle from Sulu.

"Damn, and I thought the reporters were exaggerating. I couldn't get a quad axel until twenty. It was my signature ending, you know." Pavel nodded. He knew. He'd watched Hikaru Sulu's every competition, analyzing his moves until he'd memorized them.

"Will you be able to skate again?" From the flicker of sorrow on Sulu's face, Pavel knew it was the wrong question to ask. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't…"

"It's alright. And no. Not in competition anyway. Though that doesn't stop me from going out for fun. Obviously I was in over my head today." His laugh was dry, and Pavel knew there was no humor in it.

"You looked amazing. Your Lutz was flawless."

"You just can't anticipate at all. And your free leg rose a little too high. If you can keep it down, you'll get higher and have more control. I'm in town for a few days; I could swing by some time. If you'd like." The offer was made hesitantly, and he must have taken Pavel's stunned silence for rejection because he got up to leave.

"I…I would love that," He said when he could speak. "I'll be here at the same time tomorrow. Maybe…maybe we could get breakfast after?"

"I'd like that," Sulu said, smiling. "I'll see you tomorrow, Pavel." With that, he walked out. It took several minutes before Pavel realized he'd never introduced himself. The knowledge that his role model knew who he was – and was willing to help him when he'd ignored so many offers to coach upcoming stars – exhilarated him. He couldn't help it – he pulled his skates on and slid out across the ice, holding a simple spiral, arms reaching out to the sky in a position that made him feel like he was flying.


	86. Seeing Red

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>none  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Gaila  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 100  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxxvi. Seeing Red. _She'd never seen so much red in her life.__

**A/N: **Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: **Doni, MirrorFlower and DarkWind, jessica499499, Misfitable, yuuki Lucia, Banbi-V, moviesaremagic, and NayahReidWhumper xD.** It has been added on the list to expand (I haven't forgotten any of them, I promise. Real life has just been insane with moving, getting rid of horses (don't ask me how we rescued a horse in the middle of all that) and starting my junior year of college).

**A/N: **For any who care, the stallion is now a gelding who is currently in a stall next to another horse for the first time ever. Soon he'll be going out with other horses, but not for a few days. Anyway, that's where I was all morning - picking up Pip at the vet and then babysitting everyone in the barn to make sure no one tried to kill anyone else. xD

* * *

><p><strong>Seeing Red<strong>

Gaila had never seen anyone other than Orions until she turned eighteen. Somehow she ended up on a ship headed towards Earth. She kept to her own quarters, getting her meals replicated directly there so she wouldn't have to interact with anyone. It was a temporary reprieve, but one she needed to maintain her sanity.

When she did get to earth, the first thing she saw was a sea of red. Red uniforms. Red skin. She almost balked, refusing to get out of her seat on the cramped shuttle. She'd never seen so much red in her life.


	87. Food

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>none  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Spock, Jim (mention past Spock/Jim)  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 235  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxxvii. Food._ I'd like a BLT. Hold the B and the L. And add some cheese.  
><em>_

**A/N: **Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: **Doni and MirrorFlower and DarkWind**.

* * *

><p><strong>Food<strong>

"He sent the food back again, Chef," The waitress sounded timid, cowering from the tall man dressed all in white that seemed to dominate the kitchen. "He…He asked if you could make him a BLT. Hold the lettuce; hold the bacon. And if you could add cheese…Chef?" She jumped out of the way as the man all but ran past her, his dark eyes flashing with some emotion she couldn't identify.

"Chekov, you're in charge." The words are spoken with a slight stilt to them, more rushed than the man's normal speech pattern. He makes his way through the doors of the kitchen and his eyes scan the patrons at his restaurant. He almost misses the man, but once his eyes catch he can't look anywhere else.

"Spock!" The man smiles broadly, as if he didn't just vanish from their apartment two years ago. He looks exactly the same; same messed up dirty blonde hair; same piercing blue eyes. Spock even recognizes the shirt Jim's wearing – it's a gold dress shirt Spock bought for Jim's birthday four years ago. He falters, standing just outside the door. He can turn around and go on with his night, pretend the man he still loves after all those years is still gone; or he can close the distance between them and try to mend the bridges broken between them. The metal of the door handle chills him to the bone.


	88. Pain

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>none  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Spock/Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 100  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxxviii. Pain._ Not a physical pain at all.  
><em>_

**A/N: **Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: **MirrorFlower and DarkWind**, **King Sirahk, bakedham and Doni**.

**A/N: **So I swore I wouldn't be putting A/N's in every chapter when I started writing this, but I suppose this is relevant. Since it's nearing the end of summer, I won't be posting any expansions at all in the next two weeks. However, once classes start I'll have time to do expansions (backwards, I know, but I honestly have more time during the school year). This is the way it'll work: After I post the last prompt for this, I'll add another chapter with a schedule of when expansions will be posted. (I'm aiming for one new story a week until I finish.) So far I've got quite a few on my list/started. Anyway, if there's any I don't mention on the list that you'd like to see expanded, you can review on that chapter and I'll add it in. As of right now, I don't think there's any chapter I've written that I won't consider expanding. (Obviously there are some that kind of stand alone anyway and/or are so vague there's really no point in expanding them). Anyway, I don't know what I'd do without all of you amazing people who read/review this. You're my inspiration.

* * *

><p><strong>Pain<strong>

It's funny, Jim reflected, staring blankly at his hands. Funny that Spock's absence is a physical sensation. It felt like that time he fell off his bike and bruised three ribs. When he first noticed the pain, he actually lifted up his shirt to make sure there weren't any bruises on his chest. That's when he realized the ache wasn't physical; it resonated from somewhere deep inside, somewhere even Bones' scans couldn't access.

"Captain." Jim was aware of Spock's presence before the man spoke, his eyes ghosting up to meet the Vulcan's. With that one word, the pain was banished.


	89. Through the Fire

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>burning  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Spock/Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 555  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_lxxxix. Through the Fire._ It always started the same way.  
><em>_

**A/N: **Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: **MirrorFlower and DarkWind**, **Doni and Banbi-V**.

**A/N 2: **Sorry for the late update - we had no internet all day today and it only just came back on. Only ten left before this monster's finished!

* * *

><p><strong>Through the Fire<strong>

The dream started the same. It always started the same way. And even though he knew it was a dream, he was powerless to stop it. He used to try, beating his dream-fists against the wall of the locked room. Once he'd tried jumping out the window, but he'd only ended up exactly where he'd left.

The room itself vaguely resembled his childhood bedroom, but if he looked out the window he would be on the eighth floor, towering above a city shrouded in smoke and shadows. Somewhere, he heard a child cry, a wail born of desperation. He ran around the room, tearing everything apart but while the crying got louder, he couldn't find the source.

Before he knew it, a tendril of smoke worked its way under the door, and then the room was filled with the dense stuff. He pulled his shirt up over his face, coughing as he inhaled a mouthful of smoke. Suddenly, he was in a huge building, walls of fire obstructing his view. That's when the panic set in.

There was nothing he could do but retreat from the heat that brought blisters to his skin. He never woke up before he could look down and see his skin burning, almost as if it was melting. The smell was the worst. It clung to him and sometimes, he could even smell it when he woke up, twisted in his sheets with a sheen of sweat covering him.

But this time, it was different. He fell against the wall, but the fire never came closer. Instead, it retreated and he felt himself drift into consciousness, a soothing hand pressed to his face. When his eyes blinked open, the man's hand was removed.

"I was walking past your room and heard you screaming." Spock said. Jim was grateful; it gave him a minute to collect himself before trying to explain it away.

"Sorry 'bout that," Jim said, wiping the sweat from his brow and sitting up. "Must have been having a bad dream." The last thing he would admit to Spock was that he'd had the dream every night since he'd moved to Los Angeles. From the look in his boyfriend's eye, he knew without Jim saying anything.

"May I enquire as to the nature of the dream?" Spock's question wasn't prying. Jim knew he could say no and there would be no repercussions. Instead, he nodded, clearing his throat and trying to get it to unconstrict.

"It's not…it's not the dream," Jim said. "My dad died right before I was born. He was a firefighter. A building caught fire and he was…I've had the same dream since before my mother told me how he died."

"I am sorry for your father." Spock's voice was subdued and Jim glanced up at him. "If there is nothing else you need, I will leave so as to be no further bother."

Jim wasn't aware of what he was doing, but suddenly he found his hand had reached out to grab Spock's arm. "Please don't leave? You're the only one who's gotten through the fire. Just…If you don't mind, can you stay?"

"Very well." Spock relented after a moment, sliding onto the bed. When Jim slept, there was fire in his dreams, but not the kind that had haunted him for so long.


	90. Triangle

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>burning  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Established Nyota/Spock, implied pre Spock/Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 266  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xc. Triangle._ She was in love with someone who loved someone else.  
><em>_

**A/N: **Thank you: **MirrorFlower and DarkWind and Doni. **I love you all! **  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Triangle<strong>

Lying awake that night, Nyota wondered how she could have missed the signs. She loved Spock and Spock was supposed to love her. But that morning, sitting with her boyfriend of three years, she suddenly realized that maybe their relationship wasn't perfect. Spock hadn't done anything wrong – he still left his lab every morning to meet her for breakfast no matter how long he had been working; he didn't pull away from her kiss, even though she knew he wasn't comfortable with PDAs. Hell, he'd sat up with her the weekend before when she caught that stupid cold floating around the ship. He was absolutely perfect. Except.

Except that sometimes he would make a casual reference to the Captain – never Jim, always the Captain – and she would see the edges of his Vulcan stoicism crumble. Sometimes it would be as simple as a wrinkling around his eyes or a small twitch of his lips, but she'd never elicited the same reaction and gods know she tried. She learned to play three dimensional chess, spoke to him in Vulcan and never pressed him to do anything he didn't want. She was doing her best to be perfect for him.

But despite that – despite the seeming _perfectness_ of their relationship – they were crumbling. She'd sworn that if she ever found herself in a love triangle, she would be the one to break it. She just never counted on the fact that she would be so in love with someone. So even if it killed her, she wouldn't let him go without a fight.


	91. Drowning

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13+  
><strong>WarningsTriggers: **child and spousal abuse  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **pre-Nyota/Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 367  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xci. Drowning._ No one could see that she was drowning.  
><em>_

**A/N: **Thank you: **MirrorFlower and DarkWind, Doni, Banbi-V and Magpi1600. **You guys never fail to make me smile. (Banbi-V - I know exactly what you mean. The same thing happened with me and my first serious relationship. But yeah, over time all wounds heal, even when it seems like they never will).**  
><strong>

**A/N 2: **So this is my attempt to be nice to Nyota/Spock, and it turned into this. Despite what people think (despite what I thought when I first started writing in this fandom) I really don't dislike Nyota and Spock together. In a lot of ways, I actually really like it. So yeah. I'm not sure this does a great job of capturing that, but it's what I was going for.

* * *

><p><strong>Drowning<strong>

It was easy to mistake her calm and cool exterior for absolute confidence. The fact that she never let on she was anything but completely poised fooled most people. And in public it was true. She didn't give anyone a reason to doubt that she wasn't exactly what she appeared on the surface. It hurt more than she would ever admit that for three years, no one could see that she was drowning.

She told her friends stories about her parents and brother. She could explain down to the last detail about their trip to Paris. She showed off a scar she got when her dad taught her to ride a bike and she fell and skidded down the road. She ignored the obvious jealousy in Gaila's eyes when she told stories about her first boyfriend and how patient and gentle he was with her. Sometimes, she almost believed herself.

What she didn't tell was that she stole her dad's credit cards and ran away to Paris to escape her parent's fighting. The scar was from when her dad was drunk and he missed her mother and the empty vodka bottle hit Nyota instead. And she'd never had a boyfriend in her life. Several boys at school asked her out, but when she thought about her dad's hands touching her, she had to run to the bathroom to be sick, making any excuse not to go out with anyone who asked.

So when she walked in to Advanced Vulcan fifteen minutes late and the professor asked her to see him after, she didn't expect anything out of the ordinary. What she didn't expect was to see the same pain echoing in his eyes, if not as deep as hers than something related. She certainly didn't expect their hands to brush as she was leaving or the connection that flared between them. It was tenuous, almost something she could overlook, but it was solid. And even though it took another year for her to admit to him that her perfect childhood wasn't perfect, the small connection became a lifeline that saved her from the water crashing over her head. For the first time she could remember, she wasn't drowning.


	92. All That I Have

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>WarningsTriggers: **language  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Nyota/Leonard  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 538  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xcii. All That I Have._ It's yours.  
><em>_

**A/N: **Thank you: **MirrorFlower and DarkWind, Doni, Banbi-V and moviesaremagic. **I love you guys so much!

* * *

><p><strong>All That I Have<strong>

"Leonard…" Nyota jumped when she heard the door whoosh open to reveal her boyfriend. She knew the look in his eye well enough to know not to say anything – her turn for talking would come later, but for now she needed to listen to what he needed to say. It wasn't easy to wait for him to break the silence. As it stretched between them, he paced. His hand was in his pocket, fingering something she couldn't see. When he did speak, his voice was much calmer than his frantic movements led her to believe.

"I'm not perfect. I'm pretty damn screwed up, actually. Probably as far from perfect as a man can get. I married my high school girlfriend but was so caught up in my work I didn't noticed that she was cheating on me for eight years of our fifteen year marriage. And even though she was the one who cheated, I was the one who was taken for all I had and kicked out of the only home I'd ever known. I have a kid I'm probably never going to be allowed to see again; who probably is being raised on stories of her looser dad.

"I honestly don't know why anyone would love me. I'm rarely ever in a good mood. I yell when I get stressed, and I'm stressed all the damn time that I'm stuck on this piece of crap ship floating in the middle of space manned by a psychotic child and a Vulcan with a stick so far up his ass it's a permanent fixture.

"And you – you're this amazing, smart, beautiful woman who anyone in the world would fight to be with. For some reason, you chose me. And I think I was trying to fuck up our relationship at first. But I'm done fighting it, because all I know is that I can't get you out of my head. Your laugh, the way you crinkle your nose when you get mad, your insane desire to speak every language, even if it isn't physically possible. I love you, Nyota, and I can't lie to you. I don't have very much going for me, but it's all for you. Everything that I have is yours. Just…don't give up on me yet." When he stopped talking, he finally risked meeting Nyota's eyes. His own had been glued to the wall behind her the entire time, knowing that if he was looking at her, he wouldn't be able to get the words out and they needed to get out.

"Are you done?" There was no clue to her thoughts in those words, but her eyes softened and she smiled, standing gracefully and closing the distance between them. Her hand closed on his, prying the fingers open gently and extracting the object in them. She slipped the ring on her finger without a word, looking down at it, her smile broadening. It was small, probably picked up at their last check on in Los Angeles a few months ago, but she couldn't imagine anything more perfect. "All that you have? That's a lot more than you think, you know. You shouldn't sell yourself short."


	93. Give Up

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>WarningsTriggers: **none  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, Spock  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 186  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xciii. Give Up._ Ready to give up yet?  
><em>_

**A/N: **Thank you: **MirrorFlower and DarkWind, Doni, moviesaremagic, and NaomiBlue. **Here's something a little lighter than the past few chapters for you. (:

* * *

><p><strong>Give Up<strong>

"Ready to give up?" Jim braced himself against the edge of the table, casting an overly confident grin at the man sitting across the table from him. The man refused to rise to the challenge, not even lifting his eyes from the complicated structure between them. Jim felt his smile fall and a frown wrinkle his forehead. Spock had been ignoring him all night, not even giving him so much as a glance. It was, frankly, disturbing.

He was just about ready to yell or throw something in an attempt to get Spock's attention when the Vulcan reached out and moved a piece on the chess board, turning it in his fingers briefly before setting it down. For someone who avoided unproductive movements, it was strange enough to make Jim hesitate. He was about to get up and call for Bones to make sure his First Officer hadn't been taken over by aliens or given a personality transplant when Spock's dark eyes met his. His eyebrow rose in that all too familiar arch. "I believe it is you who will 'give up.' Check."


	94. Last Hope

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>WarningsTriggers: **none  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 100  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xciv. Last Hope._ This was his last hope  
><em>_

**A/N: **Special thanks to **MirrorFlower and DarkWind, Doni, and moviesaremagic. **lessthanthree

* * *

><p><strong>Last Hope<strong>

This was his last hope, and as he leaned forward, the hard surface digging in to his thighs and his arms stretched as far as they possibly could, he knew it wasn't going to be quite enough. Still, he had to try. His balance was precarious at best, and he felt his perch starting to shake under his pointed toes. He felt blood on his lip from where he was biting it in concentration and a frustrated sigh escaped them. He was almost there – he could practically taste his success. He grabbed the cookie jar just as the chair fell.


	95. Advertisement

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>WarningsTriggers: **none  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Jim, (Spock)  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 188  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xcv. Advertisement._ He felt like there was a sign over his head.  
><em>_

**A/N: **Special thanks to **MirrorFlower and DarkWind, Doni, moviesaremagic, King Sirahk, Banbi-V, and Elle. **I'm glad the last chapter made you guys laugh. (:

* * *

><p><strong>Advertisement<strong>

He felt like there was a freaking sign over his head alerting every gay man in a hundred mile radius that Jim Kirk was available. It was one kiss and not even a good one, with some random guy in a bar in the heat of the moment. Well, it might have been a semi-decent kiss. Okay, probably the best kiss he'd ever had, making his heart jump to his throat and his skin catch on fire where their bodies touched. But that didn't mean he was going to stop hitting on girls and start chasing boys. He wasn't gay.

It was all moot anyway. He hadn't stuck around long enough to find out the guys name. The bar had been so dark and smoky he didn't even get a good enough look to recognize the man anyway. Except he would recognize those dark eyes anywhere, and the elegant hands that entwined with his would forever be burned into his soul. So he walked around Starfleet's campus, jumping every time he saw dark eyes and feeling like a neon sign was advertising his newfound sexuality above his head.


	96. In the Storm

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>WarningsTriggers: **none  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Spock Prime (mentions Spock Prime/Jim Prime)  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 277  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xcvi. In the Storm._ He could only have faith that their science would hold up as he felt himself pulled into the eye of the storm.  
><em>_

**A/N: **Thank you **MirrorFlower and DarkWind and Doni, **for reviewing the last chapter! (: We're almost there, guys.

**A/N 2: **This is my first attempt at Spock Prime so...we'll see. He seems to be much more emotional than nu!Spock.

* * *

><p><strong>In the Storm<strong>

He kept his hands light on the controls, centuries of practice keeping his panic under control and overriding his instinct to clench the seat. His ship would remain smooth regardless of the buffeting going on around him, the most high tech ship the Vulcan Science Academy had ever created. He could only have faith that their science would hold up as he felt himself pulled into the eye of the storm.

Spock was in there forever, nothing in sight, not even distant stars to give him an idea of his trajectory. He imagined Jim, lost just as he would be considered lost, and if their two situations were anything alike. He wondered if Jim had thought of him, if his last moments had been full of regrets on what they never got the chance to experience. It had taken them far too long to get over their egos, and they were together for much too short a time. That had been so long ago. Spock hadn't thought of Jim in so long, but the memories were fresh in his mind, a beacon that kept him sane as he floated through the nothingness.

When the ship was spit out of the storm in what was very obviously _not_ where he'd gone in, he felt the memories begin to fade away again. He struggled to hold on to them, but they were like water through his fingers. He was so absorbed in the memories he didn't see the monolithic ship that was hauling him in. It was only when he tried to turn the ship around and send it back into the storm that he realized what was happening.


	97. Safety First

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>WarningsTriggers: **none  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Spock/Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 316  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xcvii. Safety First._ A stack of boxes labeled 'Safety First.'  
><em>_

**A/N: **Thank you **MirrorFlower and DarkWind, Doni, and bakedham **for reviewing the last chapter! (:

**A/N 2: **Tomorrow's update will probably be late also - I'm moving in to the dorm in the morning (after a two hour drive). So yeah...It'll be late as well.

* * *

><p><strong>Safety First<strong>

"Jim?" Blue eyes rimmed in red glanced up at the sound of his name at the door. It was only for a moment, a brief glance, before he was back to the project he was currently working on – putting together what might be a crib but looked more like a play pen. "Yet another box has arrived. I thought you assure me yesterday's was the last."

"I forgot to get replacement parts for the gate and the stroller and the crib. And it was all on sale." He left his spot on the floor and went to take the box from Spock's arms, cradling it and setting it down on a pile of four other boxes. They were all labeled 'Safety First.' "You know she's due any day now and we aren't ready. I haven't set up the crib yet, and the changing table looks like someone hit it with a hammer. Plus there's still these four boxes to unpack. And you promised you would baby proof the cabinets and bolt the bookshelves to the wall and…"

"Jim." Spock's voice was harsh, shocking Jim into silence. "You are aware that we will likely be up all night when the child arrives, correct?" Jim just nodded, still not sure where Spock was going with his observation. "Then get some sleep now. You have not been to bed for the last two nights."

"There's just so much left to do. Everything has to be perfect." Spock knelt down, taking the screw driver from Jim's hand and setting it on the floor before lifting him up. Jim slumped against him, resting his head on Spock's shoulder, his arms loose around Spock's waist.

"I will finish it. Go sleep, t'hy'la." Jim nodded, giving Spock a quick kiss before leaving. He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.


	98. Puzzle

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>WarningsTriggers: **none  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Spock, Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 100  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xcviii. Puzzle._ Spock is good at puzzles.  
><em>_

**A/N: **Thank you **MirrorFlower and DarkWind, Doni, Banbi-V, Magpi1600 and jessica499499 **for reviewing the last chapter! (And also thanks to everyone who alerted/favorited!

**A/N 2: **So I'm officially moved in! It didn't take nearly as long as I expected it to which is good. Although I did have to stand in line for books and then to convince the meal plan people that yes, I do in fact have enough scholarships to pay for my food. xD But everything is sorted out and it's before 4, so life is good. Only two left in this thing, then I'll get on the expansions!

* * *

><p><strong>Puzzle<strong>

Spock is good at puzzles. The 2D ones ceased to be challenging when he was seven. Three dimensional ones also were a short lived phase that only took so long to master due to his poor coordination as he grew into his ten year old body. Then he moved on to math puzzles – ones that required hours to crack the code for. But those only provided a temporary challenge for him until now he could do them without thinking. But the puzzle of Jim Kirk was proving much more challenging. He was beginning to doubt he would ever solve it.


	99. Solitude

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>WarningsTriggers: **major character(s) death  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Spock/Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 800  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_xcix. Solitude._ They stand there, alone but finally together, until night falls completely.  
><em>_

**A/N: **Thank you **MirrorFlower and DarkWind, Doni, Banbi-V, jessica499499 and King Sirahk **for reviewing the last chapter! (And also thanks to everyone who alerted/favorited!) Only one chapter left now. (I think it's a good omen that this is over on a Friday xD)

* * *

><p><strong>Solitude<strong>

It's quiet in the graveyard, as it should be. The mourners who lined the lanes only a few days ago for the latest ceremony are gone and Jim is standing alone in the middle of a sea of white tombstones and untouched grass. It's good, though. He needs the silence, the solitude. He's been there for a while – he vaguely remembers Spock's warm arms leading him home last night but he can't for the life of him remember the drive back here this morning so his dreams of sleeping in Spock's arms might have been just that.

He tries to move but can't – he's rooted to the spot but that's okay because the images are already burned into his mind and he doesn't need to see them to know what they say. When his legs do move, he limps around the stones, wanting to stop but not knowing how. Now that he's moving, it's standing still that's impossible, even if his gait is awkward and impeded by the cane that will be a permanent fixture in his left hand.

Then he comes to the worst ones. They're all bad, all of the familiar names, but these six are the worst. These six are the ones he leaned on the most – the ones who loved him and trusted him to get them out alive. No. All two hundred and eighteen loved and trusted him and he'd betrayed them. But how could he have known it was a trap? How did fate get him and Spock out when they should have been dead with the rest of the crew? The questions had been running over and over in his mind since the incident but no answers have been forthcoming. The therapist he's been seeing says his mind is blocking out memories that it deems too painful to relive. He doesn't buy that crap, because surely the not knowing is far worse.

He's already pushed himself beyond what his physical therapist advised and even supporting his weight on the cane, his bad leg gives out and he falls in a heap on the ground. He doesn't need to look to know it's Ensign Reginald McCleary's grave. In such a big ship it's no wonder he wasn't able to really get to know everyone, but he can see a flash of black hair and blue eyes in a young face – too young, much too young – and the sweaty palms of the kid shaking his hand as he welcomes another batch of recruits up on his ship. He thinks he made some joke about his name – 'who names a kid Reginald?' 'my parents have an odd sense of humor, sir. most people call me Reggie.' 'Reggie it is then. welcome aboard, Ensign Reggie.' – before moving on to the next one like he'd have all the time in the world to get to know this child.

Some time passes, and again Jim can't begin to place how long except that when he once again forces himself to stand it's closing in on dark. He knows Spock will be there for him any minute, but he still has a little while to say his goodbyes. He has to say them now. There will be no time because he's being shipped across the country to a job sitting behind a desk that will probably drive him crazy but even if he wasn't crippled he still wouldn't be able to make himself go back to space.

"I'm sorry." His voice is hoarse; a side effect of waking every morning screaming as if screaming could help. He had to give a speech the day before to all those people who didn't know his crew but wanted to get a look at the only survivors of the _Enterprise_ and maybe shake his hand and get his autograph if they were lucky. That had been written for him, scripted by someone wearing a Starfleet uniform but who didn't quite have what it took to get a position on a ship. It had been impersonal, but that was good. Jim could read the words without emotion. This speech wasn't scripted. It was his own words – the last words he would speak to the people who had served him so faithfully for eight years. "I'm sorry." He couldn't get past those two words and when Spock arrived he was still mumbling those words over and over like a prayer or a plea. 'Bones,' 'Scotty,' 'Nyota,' 'Chekov' and 'Sulu' were thrown in there somewhere but any coherence was gone. When Spock's arms encircle him, his lips stop moving. They stand there, alone but finally together, until night falls completely. It's silent in the graveyard, as it should be.


	100. Relaxation

**Story: **Searching for Heaven  
><strong>Author:<strong> MikoAkako  
><strong>Beta: <strong>None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>WarningsTriggers: **none  
><strong>PairingCharacter: **Spock/Jim  
><strong>Word count:<strong> 333  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything you recognize.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>_c. Relaxation._ Jim would never get used to the complete and utter relaxation he was allowed to feel these days.  
><em>_

**A/N: **Thank you **Doni, Banbi-V, ratt. FormerlyRatt9, Misfitable, and moviesaremagic** for your lovely review on the last chapter. This is the final chapter! (It's 101 instead of 100 because the first is the list of prompts.) I'm posting chapter 102 as the list of the chapter's I'm currently planning on expanding, along with the dates I have decided on so far. But anyway, I just wanted to thank everyone who's reviewed this thing and who's stuck with me for this long. I had a lot of fun with this, even though I never thought I'd actually manage to finish (and for a while there it looked like I wasn't going to). Love you all!

* * *

><p><strong>Relaxation<strong>

It was still strange even after all these years. Jim would never get used to the complete and utter relaxation he was allowed to feel these days. He'd spent so long constantly on high alert, always watching out for everyone around him, that it was impossible for him to abandon that even living on the small farm in Iowa.

Spock had adjusted better, much to their friend's surprise. He was up every morning at the crack of dawn to feed the animals and collect eggs. Jim always joined him, mostly watching but sometimes helping. Mornings were hard for him. He always woke up instantly alert, expecting to be looking at his quarters on the _Enterprise_ and always shocked to find himself back in his childhood home.

Spock would be there without fail, a silent presence until Jim relaxed enough to listen to his bondmate. Thank God he still knew who Spock was. Without Spock…Jim didn't even want to think about it. Without Spock, Jim would probably be locked up in some hospital with a dozen nurses, sedated all the time 'for his own protection.'

Sometimes Bones came to visit, administering a test he promised he'd given before but that Jim had no memory of at all. He hated that look of distress that passed over Bones' face at the end, even if he wouldn't remember it in a few days. That was one good thing, Spock assured him. At first his memory was limited to a few hours. Now, even if he couldn't hold on to concrete facts, he did vaguely remember events extending up to a week before.

As he lay down to sleep at night, he clung to Spock, hoping that a physical connection would keep the memories he'd gained that day safe in his head. Spock clung to him in response, the selflessness of his love washing over Jim until he could relax enough to fall asleep. Even if he never remembered anything else, he would remember Spock. Forever.


End file.
